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Sir  H.  Raeburn 


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1771-1832 


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l)tst\)'s  Cnglisl)  Classics 


IVANHOE :  A  ROMANCE 


BY 

SIR  WALTER   SCOTT 


EDITED,   WITH    INTRODUCTION   AND   NOTES,   BY 

PORTE?  ZANDER   MacCLINTOCK,  A.M 

INSTRL?TOR    IN   THE   UN1VER8ITY   OF   CHICAGO 


ILLUSTRATED  BY  C.  J>-  BROCK 


BOSTON,  U.S.A. 
D.   C.   HEATH  &   CO.,   PUBLISHERS 

1905 


/ 


\ 


Copyright,  lfcuo. 
Fob  Introduction,  Notes,  and  Gl 
By  D.   C.   HEATH  &  CO. 


/ 


/ 


PREFACE. 


t"HE  assertion  that  artistic  pleasure  is  the  best  fruit  of  the  reading 
of  literature  may  be  called  a  truism  ;  and  the  enjoyment  of  this 
artistic  pleasure  as  the  immediate  accompaniment  of  one's  read- 
ing, is  the  ideal  experience.  But  artistic  pleasure  is  not  a  simple 
product ;  it  is  the  emotional  element  of  appreciation,  of  which  the 
other  and  indispensable  element  is  intellectual  comprehension. 

Toward  the  intellectual  comprehension  of  such  a  masterpiece  as 
"  Ivanhoe,"  dealing  as  it  does  with  distant  times  and  bygone  man- 
ners, it  is  necessary  to  supply  the  young  student  with  certain  helps, 
which  should,  of  course,  be  sufficiently  convenient  for  reference, 
but  not  clamorously  obtrusive.  In  the  "  Ivanhoe  "  here  presented 
there  are  neither  line  numbers  nor  foot-notes  to  mar  the  literary 
look  of  the  page.  The  student  may,  therefore,  read  without  inter- 
ruption until  he  encounters  what  is  to  him  a  difficulty.  The  intel- 
ligent student  will  consult  the  notes  unbidden  when  he  realizes 
that  they  may  contain  information  or  suggestions  valuable  to  him. 

In  the  Glossary  are  given  such  terms  as  may  be  called  technical 
and  therefore  require  definition  or  explanation.  In  the  Notes  ap- 
pear those  expressions  which  need  fuller  treatment,  and  certain 
matters  which,  though  needing  explanation,  are  likely  to  escape  the 
reader's  notice.  The  Notes  also  include  Scott's  notes,  a  few  of 
which  are  condensed.  Four  of  the  long  notes  appended  by  Scott 
to  the  later  edition  of  "Ivanhoe,"  being  interesting  only  from 
the  antiquarian  point  of  view,  are  omitted  altogether. 

The  Glossary  and  Notes  are  not  intended  to  be  a  substitute  for 
the  ordinary  reference  books  ;  the  student  will  need  to  consult  his 
dictionary,  his  history,  and  his  maps  for  many  matters. 

•  •  • 

in 


c   . 


iv  PREFACE. 

It  was  not  deemed  necessary  to  include  either  Scott's  Dedicatory 
Epistle  or  his  Introduction  to  the  edition  of  1829.  Such  points 
in  either  as  seemed  essential  for  the  purposes  of  this  book  were 
digested  into  the  editor's  Introduction. 

This  Introduction  is  not  an  introduction  to  the  life  of  Scott,  nor 
to  Scott's  whole  literary  work,  but  tries  to  attain  the  more  modest 
end  of  being  an  introduction  to  "  Ivanhoe." 

The  text  is  that  of  the  1829  edition,  with  some  modifications  of 
punctuation.  Scott's  well-known  carelessness  in  this  matter  leaves 
an  editor  much  latitude. 

To  acknowledge  my  large  indebtedness  to  my  colleague,  Pro- 
fessor W.  D.  MacClintock,  is  the  final  pleasant  detail  of  a  very 
pleasant  task. 

Chicago,  1899, 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Portrait  by  Sir  H.  Raebcjrn.     Illustrations  by  Charles  E.  Brock. 
Portrait  of  Scott         ......       Frontispiece 

FACING   page 

"  Do  you  dispute  with  me,  slave  !  " 18 

"  I  know  little  of  the  knight  of   Ivanhoe,"  answered   the 

Palmer 53 

Struck  with  the  sharp  end  of  his  spear  the  shield  of  Brian 

de  Bois-Guilbert 88 

"  Well  and  yeomanly  done  !  "  shouted  the  robbers  .  .  12C 
He  reached  the  harp  and  entertained  his  guest        .        .         .177 

He  was  instantly  made  prisoner,  and  pulled  from  his  horse  .  192 
Holding  him  between  them,  waited  the  hard-hearted  Baron's 

further  signal 219 

"  I  know  you  not,  sir,"  said  the  lady 225 

Availing  herself  of  the  protection  of  a  large,  ancient  shield     .  297 

He  discharged  a  fearful  blow  upon  the  head  of  Athelstane      .  329 

"  Make  room,  my  merry  men  !  " 342 

"  Back,  dog  !  "  said  the  Grand  Master 381 

"  Yes,  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  to  thyself  I  appeal  "        .         .406 

At  this  moment,  Wamba  winded  the  bugle  ....  443 
"My  father!     My  father!"  said  Ivanhoe.     "Grant  me  thy 

forgiveness!" 466 

Wilfred,  placing  his  foot  on   his    breast  .  .  .  commanded 

him  to  yield              487 


INTRODUCTION. 


I.  The  Life  and  Literary  Work  of  Scott.  —  The  life  and  per- 
sonality of  Sir  Walter  Scott  are  so  rich  in  interest  that  it  is  not 
possible  to  handle  them  adequately  in  any  brief  way.  The  main 
sources  for  our  knowledge  of  him  are  the  great  Life  of  Scott,  by 
his  son-in-law  Lockhart,  Scott's  Familiar  Letters,  and  his  Journal. 
The  student  should  consult  these  if  possible.  But  brief  biographies 
of  Scott  are  accessible  in  many  manuals.  For  the  purposes  of  this 
book  the  following  table  is  deemed  sufficient, — giving  the  main 
incidents  of  his  life  and  an  impression  of  the  amount  and  variety 
of  his  literary  work  :  — 

1771.  Born  August  15. 

1786.  Began  to  study  law. 

1792.  Called  to  the  bar. 

1796.  Published  translation  of  Buerger's  Ballads. 

1797.  Marriage. 

1799.  Appointed  sheriff  of  Selkirkshire. 

1799.  Translated  Goethe's  Goetz  von  Berlichingen. 

1800.  The  Eve  of  St.  John :  a  Border  Ballad. 
1802.    Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border. 

1804.  Edited  Sir  Tristrem,  a  Metrical  Romance  by  Thomas  of  Ercil- 

doune. 

1805.  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel :  a  Poem. 

1806.  Appointed  Clerk  of  the  Sessions. 
1806.   Edited  Memoirs,  etc. 

1808.  Marmion :  a  Tale  of  Flodden  Field.    Edited  the  Works  of  Dry- 

den,  18  vols.,  and  Life;  Strutt's  Queenhoo  Hall:  a  Romance. 

1809.  Edited  State  Papers  and  Somers'  Collection  of  Tracts.     1809-15. 

1810.  The  Lady  of  the  Lake :  a  Poem.    Edited  English  Minstrelsy. 

1811.  The  Vision  of  Do 7i  Roderick  :  a  Poem. 

1812.  Came  to  live  at  Abhotsford. 

1813.  Rokeby  :  a  Poem  ;  The  Bridal  of  Triermain. 

1814.  Waverley.    Edited  The  Works  of  Swift,  19  vols,  and  Life;  The 

Border  Antiquities.    1814-17. 

vii 


Viii  INTRODUCTION. 

1815.  Guy  Mannering ;  The  Lord  of  the  Isles :  a  Poem ;  The  Field  of 

Waterloo :  a  Poem.    Edited  Memoirs  of  the  Somervilles. 

1816.  The  Antiquary;  Tales  of  My  Landlord,  first  series  (The  Black 

Dwarf,  Old  Mortality). 

1817.  Harold  the  Dauntless :  a  Poem. 

1818.  Rob  Roy ;  Tales  of  My  Landlord,  second  series  (The  Heart  of 

Midlothian). 

1819.  Tales  of  My  Landlord,  third  series  (The  Bride  of  Lammermoor, 

The  Legend  of  Montrose) ;  Ivanhoe  . 

1820.  Knighted.     The  Monastery ;  The  Abbot. 

1821.  Kenilworth.    Edited  the  Novelists'  Library.    1821-24. 

1822.  The  Pirate ;  The  Fortunes  of  Nigel ;  Halidon  Hill :  a  Dramatic 

Sketch.    Much  editing. 

1823.  Peveril  of  the  Peak ;  Quentin  Durward. 

1824.  St.  Ronan's  Well ;  Redgauntlet. 

1825.  Tales  of  the  Crusaders  (The  Betrothed,  The  Talisman). 

1826.  Failure  of   the   Ballantynes    and    Scott's    financial    distress. 

Death  of  his  wife.     Woodstock. 

1827.  Life  of  Napoleon  Buonaparte,  9  vols. ;  Chronicles  of  the  Canon- 

gate,  first  series  (The  Tioo  Drovers,   The  Highland  Widow, 
The  Surgeon's  Daughter) ;  Tales  of  a  Grandfather.    1827-30. 

1828.  Miscellaneous  Works  Collected,  6  vols.    Chronicles  of  the  Canon- 

gate,  second  series  (The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth). 

1829.  Anne  of  Geierstein ;  History  of  Scotland.    1829-30. 

1830.  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft. 

1831.  Journey  to  Italy.     Tales  of  My  Landlord,  fourth  series  (Count 

Robert  of  Paris,  Castle  Dangerous). 

1832.  Died  September  21. 

II.  The  Writing  of  Ivanhoe.  —  Ivanhoe  is  the  tenth  of  the 
Waverley  novels  and  was  published  in  December,  1819,  though  the 
first  edition  bears  the  date  of  1820.  In  the  spring  of  1819  Scott 
was  attacked  by  a  malady  that  caused  him  intense  suffering  and 
rendered  him  unfit  for  the  labor  of  writing.  He  had,  therefore, 
to  dictate  to  an  amanuensis  all  that  he  composed  for  several 
months.  This  included  well-nigh  the  whole  of  The  Legend  of 
Montrose,  a  large  part  of  The  Bride  of  Lammermoor,  and  almost  the 
whole  of  Ivanhoe.  He  endured  also  during  the  same  year  several 
bereavements  that  caused  him  deep  grief.  But  in  spite  of  all  his 
suffering  he  kept  courageously  at  work,  dictating  between  the 
spasms  of   pain,  often  breaking  off  in  the  midst  of  a  brilliant 


• 


INTRODUCTION.  ix 

passage  with  a  groan  of  physical  anguish.  After  he  recovered  he 
read  parts  of  the  work  written  during  this  period,  as  if  it  had  been 
done  by  another  man ;  so  great  had  his  physical  suffering  been 
while  he  was  composing  it,  that  he  had  not  been  conscious  of  the 
process.  Lockhart  gives  {Life  of  Scott,  Vol.  VI.,  174),  ajacsimile 
of  one  of  the  pages  of  Ivanhoe  in  Scott's  own  hand,  calling  atten- 
tion to  the  beauty  and  firmness  of  the  work.1 

While  he  was  writing  Ivanhoe  he  was  also  at  work  upon  The 
Monastery,  the  first  volume  of  which  he  showed  to  Lockhart  in 
February,  1820.  Scott  told  him  that  he  worked  at  the  two  books 
together,  saying,  "  It  was  a  relief  to  interlay  the  scenery  most 
familiar  to  me  (in  The  Monastery)  with  the  strange  world  for 
which  I  had  to  draw  so  much  upon  my  imagination  "  (in  Ivanhoe). 

The  nine  novels  of  the  Waverley  series  which  appeared  before 
Ivanhoe  dealt  altogether  with  Scottish  subjects  and  material. 
Though  the  interest  in  them  showed  no  sign  of  abating,  and 
though  the  public  was  still  guessing  at  the  identity  of  the  author, 
Scott  felt  that  public  interest  might  be  stimulated  by  a  change  of 
subject  and  a  new  mystification.  In  Ivanhoe,  therefore,  he  turned 
to  England  for  his  material,  and  assumed  a  new  name  and  charac- 
ter for  the  author  —  Laurence  Templeton,  an  antiquary,  who  writes 
to  a  brother  antiquary,  Dr.  Dryasdust,  a  long  prefatory  letter  ex- 
plaining that  he  had  found  an  old  manuscript  (the  Wardour  MS.) 
which  gave  him  the  material  for  the  story;  apologizing  for  giving 
it  the  form  of  a  romance,  and  setting  forth  the  difficulties,  the  laws, 
and  the  liberties  of  such  a  romance. 

Scott  was  persuaded  by  his  publishers  to  abandon  the  new  mys- 
tification, and  Ivanhoe  appeared  with  the  words  "by  the  Author 
of  Waverley  "  upon  the  title-page,  though  the  prefatory  letter  was 
retained  as  were  also  the  notes  and  comments  throughout  the  story 
signed  L.  T.  It  appeared  in  the  usual  three  volumes,  published 
simultaneously  in  Edinburgh  and  London.  It  is  doubtless  due  to 
the  state  of  Scott's  health  that  the  three  novels  published  during 

1  When  Lockhart  was  writing,  the  MS.  of  Ivanhoe,  so  far  as  it  was 
in  Scott's  hand,  was  at  Abbotsford.  Mr.  Lang  in  the  "  Border  "  Ivan- 
hoe (1898),  states,  upon  the  authority  of  Lockhart,  that  the  MS.  is  still 
there.  But  inquiry  at  Abbotsford  in  1899  developed  the  fact  that  it  is 
not  there,  nor  do  the  present  custodians  know  where  it  is. 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

this  year  received  careless  proof-reading,  the  effects  of  which  have 
come  down  to  the  latest  texts. 

In  1825  Scott  openly  avowed  the  authorship  of  the  Waverley 
novels,  and  in  1829  undertook  to  prepare  a  definitive  edition  of  them. 
Every  volume  of  this  edition  received  his  own  revision.  He  wrote 
an  introduction  to  the  series,  which  appears  in  Waverley.  Every 
student  who  feels  interested  in  Scott's  general  point  of  view  and 
method  of  work  should  read  this  introduction.  He  wrote  also  a 
special  introduction  to  the  Ivanhoe  of  this  edition,  containing 
important  statements  as  to  his  choice  of  subject,  the  relation  of  the 
story  to  history,  and  the  sources  of  his  material  other  than  histori- 
cal. He  made  also  a  few  unimportant  additions  to  the  text,  arid 
appended  a  few  explanatory  and  exculpatory  notes. 

III.  The  Reception  of  Ivanhoe  and  its  Subsequent  Reputation.  — 
"  Ivanhoe  was  received  throughout  England  with  a  more  clamorous 
delight  than  any  of  the  Scotch  novels  had  been.  The  volumes  were 
now  for  the  first  time  of  the  post  8vo.  form,  with  a  finer  paper  than 
hitherto,  the  press-work  much  more  elegant,  and  the  price  accord- 
ingly raised  from  eight  shillings  a  volume  to  ten.  Yet  the  copies 
sold  in  this  original  shape  were  twelve  thousand."  1 

"  The  publication  of  Ivanhoe  marks  the  most  brilliant  epoch  in 
Scott's  history  as  the  literary  favorite  of  his  contemporaries. 
With  the  novel  which  he  next  put  forth  the  immediate  sale  of 
them  began  to  decline."  2 

The  great  reviews  did  not,  of  course,  express  the  "clamourous 
delight "  that  the  public  felt.  Their  praises  are  tempered  with  that 
moderation  and  those  reservations  that  one  would  expect  to  find  in 
an  age  when  criticism  was  a  process  of  judgment  rather  than  of 
appreciation. 

Christopher  North  in  Blackwood  (December,  1819),  is  the  most 
enthusiastic  of  them.  The  general  tone  of  his  comment  is  repre- 
sented by  this  sentence  :  "  Never  were  the  long-gathered  stores  of 
most  extensive  erudition  applied  to  the  purpose  of  imaginative 
genius  with  so  much  easy,  lavish,  and  luxurious  power ;  never  was 
the  illusion  of  fancy  so  complete." 

i  Lockhart's  Life  of  Scott,  Vol.  VI.,  174. 
2  Ibid.,  Vol.  VI.,  179. 


INTRODUCTION.  xi 

The  Quarterly  Review  (October,  1821),  in  a  review  of  all  the 
Waverley  novels  produced  up  to  that  time,  says  (to  extract  a  few 
characteristic  sentences):  "Next  comes  that  splendid  masque 
Ivanhoe.  ...  On  our  first  perusal  we  thought  Ivanhoe,  though 
not  the  best,  the  most  brilliant  and  most  amusing,  of  this  whole 
family  of  novels.  We  are  not  so  sure  that  it  stood  the  second  so 
well.  Its  principal  deficiency  is  one  which  besets  ordinary  novel- 
ists, but  from  which  our  author  is  in  general  eminently  free  — want 
of  individuality  in  the  principal  characters.  .  .  .  We  have  little  to 
say  as  to  the  story  but  that  it  is  totally  deficient  in  unity  of  action, 
and  consists,  in  fact,  of  a  series  of  events  which  occurred  at  about 
the  same  time  to  a  set  of  persons  who  happened  to  be  collected 
at  the  lists  of  Ashby." 

The  Edinburgh  Review  (January,  1820),  says  :  "  The  work  before 
us  shows  at  least  as  much  genius  as  any  of  those  with  which  it 
must  now  be  numbered,  .  .  .  but  it  does  not  delight  so  deeply  and 
we  rather  think  it  will  not  please  so  long  ;  .  .  .  the  interest  we  do 
take  is  in  the  situations.  .  .  .  We  feel  not  only  that  the  characters 
he  brings  before  us  are  contrary  to  our  experience,  but  that  they  are 
actually  impossible.  ...  It  is  a  splendid  Poem,  and  contains 
matter  enough  for  six  good  tragedies." 

In  general  the  contemporary  reviews  agree  in  praising  Ivanhoe 
as  a  pageant,  a  spectacle,  a  masque,  and  in  condemning  it  as  a 
presentation  of  actual  history,  or  of  real  life  and  character.  "As 
a  work  of  art,"  says  Lockhart,  "Ivanhoe  is  perhaps  the  finest  of 
all  Scott's  efforts  in  prose  or  verse  ;  nor  have  the  strength  and 
splendour  of  his  imagination  been  displayed  to  higher  advantage 
than  in  some  of  the  scenes  of  this  romance.  But  I  believe  that  no 
reader  who  is  capable  of  thoroughly  comprehending  the  author's 
Scotch  character  and  Scotch  dialogue  will  ever  place  Ivanhoe,  as  a 
work  of  genius,  on  the  same  level  with  Waverley,  Guy  Mannering, 
or  The  Heart  of  Midlothian.'1'1  x 

"Ivanhoe,"  says  Andrew  Lang,  "is  such  a  very  dear  and  old 
friend  that  no  one  who  has  ever  been  a  boy  can  pretend  to  apply 
to  it  any  stern  critical  tests."  *2 

i  Life  of  Scott,  Vol.  VI.,  176. 

2  Introduction  to  Border  Edition  of  Ivanhoe- 


Xll  INTRODUCTION. 

"Ivanhoe  has  delighted  readers  for  full  seventy  years,1'  says 
Clement  Shorter,  "and  it  delights  them  every  whit  as  much 
to-day  as  it  did  the  generation  to  which  it  first  appealed."  1 

11  Tested  by  .  .  .  the  magic  by  which  it  evokes  the  past,  the 
skill  with  which  legend  and  history  are  used  to  create  a  poetic 
atmosphere  .  .  .  the  masterly  delineation  of  nationalities  and  pro- 
fessions, and  representatives  of  every  order  and  rank ;  above  all 
its  fundamental  Tightness,  .  .  .  tested  by  these  qualities,  Ivanhoe 
deserves  its  fame  as  one  of  the  great  romances  of  the  world."2 

The  story  has  been  translated  into  every  literary  language. 
Many  plays  have  been  based  upon  it  and  no  less  than  seven  operas 
and  melodramas.  The  earliest  of  these  is  probably  the  one  that 
Scott  went  to  see  in  Paris  in  1826,3  and  the  latest  the  one  pro- 
duced at  the  New  English  Opera  House  in  1891.  It  was  the  germ 
and  inspiration  of  Thierry's  serious  historical  work,  The  Norman 
Conquest.  Thackeray's  burlesque  continuation  of  it,  Rebecca  and 
Rowena,  is  one  of  the  most  successful  parodies  in  English. 

IV.  The  Germ  of  Ivanhoe  and  its  Evolution. — No  process  in 
the  study  of  a  work  of  art  is  more  valuable  to  the  student  than  that 
of  finding  the  starting-point  or  germinal  idea,  and  following  its 
evolution  into  the  complete  thing.  This  is  always  a  task  to  be 
modestly  undertaken,  and  in  very  complex  productions,  costs 
many  readings  and  much  thinking.  Were  Ivanhoe,  however, 
much  more  complex  than  it  is,  Scott  has  given  us  in  his  Dedica- 
tory Epistle  and  Introduction  certain  statements  and  hints  that 
make  it  a  comparatively  easy  task  to  find  the  germ  of  the  story 
and  to  trace  its  unfolding. 

He  felt,  as  he  tells  us  in  the  Introduction,  that  frequent  repeti- 
tion might  wear  out  public  favor,  and  that  readers  might  have 
begun  to  weary  of  those  "Scottish  manners,  Scottish  dialect,  and 
Scottish  characters  of  note,"  which  had  formed  the  material  of  the 
nine  novels  already  written.  Therefore  he  turns  to  England  for 
material.  He  had  long  been  attracted  by  the  picturesque  situation 
arising  out  of  the  contrast  and  opposition  between  English  and 

1  Bibliographical  Note  to  Temple  Ivanhoe. 

2  Bliss  Perry,  Introduction  to  Ivanhoe ;  Longmans'  English  Classics. 
*  Scott's  Journal  for  October  31,  1826. 


INTRODUCTION.  xiii 

Norman  ;  he  was  also  especially  interested  in  the  romantic  person- 
ality and  experience  of  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  ;  not  content  with 
presenting  him  in  Ivanhoe  he  makes  him  six  years  later  the  hero 
of  The  Talisman.  He  says  "  The  period  of  the  narrative  adopted 
was  the  reign  of  Richard  I. ,  not  only  as  abounding  with  characters 
whose  very  names  were  sure  to  attract  general  attention,  but  as 
affording  a  striking  contrast  between  the  Saxons,  by  whom  the  soil 
was  cultivated,  and  the  Normans,  who  still  reigned  in  it  as  con- 
querors." The  introduction  of  Richard  introduced  also  the 
background  of  the  crusades,  in  which  the  Templars  and  their 
order  stood  out  as  a  striking  and  picturesque  element.  Scott 
apparently  accepted  the  legends  that  connected  Robin  Hood  and 
the  merry  outlaws  of  Bernesdale  and  Sherwood  with  the  times  of 
Richard  I.  In  any  event  it  was  a  golden  opportunity  for  Scott, 
ballad  lover  and  outlaw  lover,  to  weave  into  his  story  all  that  he 
could  of  the  rich  cycle  of  Robin  Hood  adventures. 

Cedric,  therefore,  appears  as  the  expression  and  symbol  of  the  old 
vanishing  order  ;  the  young  knight  of  Ivanhoe  supplies  the  symbol 
of  the  growing  fusion  between  English  and  Norman,  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  new  order,  and  at  the  same  time  stands  as  one  of 
the  actors  in  the  love  story  demanded  by  the  romance.  Given, 
then,  the  situation  of  contrast  between  English  and  Norman, 
and  allowing  the  tour  de  force  by  which  Scott  placed  this  in  the 
reign  of  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion,  we  find  the  minor  accessories  of  the 
story  following  naturally. 

V.  Sources  and  Material.  —  The  student  who  turns  through  an 
edition  of  Scott's  novels  and  takes  note  of  the  periods  of  which  he 
treats  and  glances  at  his  foot-notes  and  appendices,  will  be  amazed 
at  the  extent  of  his  reading.  He  was  interested  in  everything  — 
history,  ballads,  romances,  memoirs,  letters,  archaeology,  heraldry 
— and  he  had  a  good  memory.  He  never  paused  in  composition  to 
look  up  details.  He  gave  all  quotations,  even  those  prefixed  to  his 
chapters,  just  as  they  came  into  his  head.  He  heard  men  "  sing  by 
land  and  sea,"  and  he  frankly  took  what  he  "thought  he  might 
require,"  and  turned  it  to  his  own  purposes.  Like  all  great  men  he 
was  a  much  indebted  man.  In  mentioning,  therefore,  the  sources 
from  which  Scott  drew  and  the  material  which  he  made  over  into 
Ivanhoe,  we  are  not  making  the  presumptuous  and  foolish  charge 


xiv  INTRODUCTION. 

of  plagiarism.  Neither  would  we  imply  that  by  any  accumulation 
of  sources  and  material  we  lu*ve  plucked  out  the  heart  of  its  charm, 
or  explained  the  secret  of  its  life.  This,  the  very  essence  of  the 
book,  Scott  originated. 

In  the  Introduction  to  the  later  Ivanhoe  he  set  us  the  example  of 
speaking  frankly  of  several,  of  the  sources  from  which  he  drew. 

The  name  of  the  story  he  took  from  an  old  rhyme  concerning 
three  manors  forfeited  by  the  ancestor  of  John  Hampden  to  the 
Black  Prince  when  they  quarrelled  at  a  game  of  tennis  :  — 

"  Tring  Wing  and  Ivanhoe 
For  striking  of  a  blow 
Hampden  did  forego 
And  glad  to  escape  so." 

He  liked  the  word  "  Ivanhoe  "  as  a  title  for  two  reasons  :  "  it  had 
an  ancient  English  sound,  and  it  conveyed  no  indication  of  the 
nature  of  the  story,"  leaving  expectation  and  interest  to  be 
satisfied  entirely  by  the  book  itself. 

He  also  tells  us  that  the  idea  of  treating  the  contrast  between 
English  and  Norman  was  taken  from  John  Logan's  tragedy  of 
Runnimede,  published  in  1783. 

He  mentions  Robert  Henry's  History  of  England,  Sharon 
Turner's  History  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  and  the  work  of  Joseph 
Strutt,1  as  having  furnished  material  for  his  purpose.  A  few  pas- 
sages may  be  definitely  traced  to  one  or  another  of  these  authori- 
ties; but  in  general  Scott  has  digested  the  material  thoroughly 
into  his  own  form.  In  one  passage  he  cites  Eadmer,  a  historian  of 
the  early  twelfth  century,  whose  Historia  Novorum  we  know  to 
have  been  in  the  library  at  Abbotsford.  And  he  tells  us  in  effect 
that  when  the  chroniclers  of  the  period  of  which  he  was  treating 
grew  uninteresting  or  unintelligible,  he  turned  to  the  pages  of  the 
gallant  Froissart,  ' '  although  he  flourished,  at  a  period  so  much 
more  remote  from  the  date  of  my  history."  2  It  is  in  the  picture  of 
the  tournament  and  of  the  trial  by  combat,  —  indeed  in  all  the 

1  Strutt's  Sports  and  Pastimes  of  the  English  People.  Dress  and 
Habits  of  the  English  People.     Queenho  Hall ;  a  Romance. 

2Froissart's  Chronicle  of  France,  England,  Scotland  and  Spain, 
completed  about  1400. 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

matters  of  chivalry,  —  that  we  see  most  distinctly  the  influence  of 
Froissart. 

Scott  was,  from  a  child,  a  devoted  ballad  lover  and  collector. 
He  knew  all  the  collections  that  had  then  been  made  —  Percy's, 
Eitson's,  Ellis's,  Hartshorne's,  all  these  he  mentions  in  the  Intro- 
duction or  the  Notes  to  Ivanhoe.  In  the  Introduction  he  gives 
a  detailed  account  of  the  ballad,  The  King  and  the  Hermit,  from 
which  he  took  the  suggestion  of  the  meeting  of  Richard  and  the 
Friar  in  the  Hermitage  of  Copmanhurst.  One  must  have  fresh  in 
mind  A  Little  Geste  of  Bobin  Hood  in  order  to  appreciate,  on  the 
one  hand,  the  closeness  with  which  Scott  follows  the  material 
given  him  in  the  Ballads,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  masterly  way 
in  which  he  moulds  it  to  his  own  purposes. 

He  adopts  for  his  own  Abbot,  and  for  Locksley  at  the  tournament 
so  many  details  from  the  pictures  of  the  Abbot  and  of  the  Yeoman 
in  the  Prologue  to  The  Canterbury  Tales,  that  one  is  surprised 
that  he  makes  no  mention  of  his  debt  to  Chaucer. 

Lockhart  says  the  introduction  of  Rebecca  and  her  father  origi- 
nated in  a  conversation  that  Scott  held  with  his  friend  Skene  during 
the  severest  season  of  his  bodily  sufferings  in  the  early  part  of  the 
year  in  which  Ivanhoe  was  written.  "  '  Mr.  Skene,'  says  that  gentle- 
man's wife,  '  sitting  by  his  bedside  and  trying  to  amuse  him  as  well 
as  he  could  in  the  intervals  of  pain,  happened  to  get  on  the  subject 
of  the  Jews  as  he  had  observed  them  when  he  spent  some  time  in 
Germany  in  his  youth,  .  .  .  and  Mr.  Skene,  partly  in  seriousness 
but  partly  from  the  mere  wish  to  turn  his  mind  at  the  moment  upon 
something  that  might  occupy  and  divert  it,  suggested  that  a  group 
of  Jews  would  be  an  interesting  feature  if  he  could  contrive  to 
bring  them  into  his  next  novel.'  Upon  the  appearance  of  Ivanhoe 
he  reminded  Mr.  Skene  of  this  conversation,  and  said,  '  You  will 
find  this  book  owes  not  a  little  to  your  German  reminscences.'  "x 

Having  adopted  the  Jews  it  was  but  natural  that  Scott  should 
turn  to  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  for  suggestions  as  to  the  content  of 
the  Jewish  consciousness,  and  the  manner  of  Jewish  expression. 
Hence,  in  his  handling  of  the  Jews  we  find  constant  use  of  material 
from  the  Bible.     The  presence  of  so  many  ecclesiastics,  also,  rang- 

iLockhart's  Life  of  Scott,  Vol.  VI.,  177. 


xvi  INTRODUCTION. 

ing  from  the  Grand  Master  to  Brother  Ambrose,  introduces  much 
Biblical  matter.  As  literary  prototypes  for  Isaac  and  Rebecca,  — 
the  Jew  torn  by  the  two  passions,  love  of  his  wealth  and  love  of  his 
only  daughter,  —  Scott  had  Shylock  and  Jessica  in  The  Merchant 
of  Venice  and  Barabas  and  Abigail  in  The  Jew  of  Malta ;  and  of 
both  these  plays,  especially  of  the  former,  we  find  unmistakable 
reminiscences. 

VI.  Ivanhoe  and  History.  — The  historical  discrepancies  and  the 
anachronisms  in  Ivanhoe  have  often  been  pointed  out.  The  early 
reviewers  discovered  many  of  them.  Freeman  in  The  Norman 
Conquest  takes  pains  to  show  that  the  state  of  things  reflected  in 
Ivanhoe  did  not  exist  in  the  twelfth  century  —  that  there  was  not 
at  the  time  of  Richard  I.  any  opposition  between  the  English  and 
Norman  elements  of  the  nation.  It  is  said  that  the  picture  would 
more  nearly  fit  the  times  of  William  Rufus,  a  century  earlier. 
The  student  who  carefully  places  the  dates  of  the  historical  events, 
with  which  the  story  is  concerned,  and  who  is  familiar  with  such 
details  of  them  as  are  known  to  be  historical,  will  detect  for 
himself  many  minor  inaccuracies,  such  as  the  dislocation  of  dates 
in  the  matter  of  Stamford  Bridge,  the  history  of  Ulrica,  the  details 
of  Richard's  return  to  England,  and  many  other  such  matters. 

But  Scott  forestalled  all  criticism  of  the  story  upon  this  ground 
when  he  said,  in  the  Dedicatory  Epistle,  "I  am  conscious  that  I 
shall  be  found  still  more  faulty  in  the  tone  of  keeping  and  costume, 
by  those  who  may  be  disposed  rigidly  to  examine  my  Tale,  with 
reference  to  the  manners  of  the  exact  period  in  which  my  actors 
flourished.  It  may  be,  that  I  have  introduced  little  which  can  pos- 
itively be  termed  modern  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  extremely 
probable  that  I  have  confused  the  manners  of  two  or  three  centuries, 
and  introduced,  during  the  reign  of  Richard  the  First,  circumstances 
appropriated  to  a  period  either  considerably  earlier  or  a  good  deal 
later  than  that  era."  And  it  is  Scott  himself,  who,  in  his  hint 
about  turning  to  Froissart,  warns  us  that  his  chivalry  is  the  chiv- 
alry of  the  fourteenth  century.  If,  therefore,  we  allow  these 
inaccuracies  and  slips  to  occupy  us  for  more  than  a  passing  mo- 
ment, we  are  expending  our  interest  upon  unessential  matters. 

Obviously,  it  would  be  out  of  place  in  this  brief  and  simple  Intro- 
duction to  discuss  those  important  technical  matters  that  concern 


INTRODUCTION.  xvii 

the  historical  novel.  But  we  cannot  do  less  than  say  that  no 
romance  —  no  work  of  art  —  should  be  regarded  as  a  "  foot-note  to 
history  "  and  compelled  to  square  itself  with  actual  fact.  When  the 
artist  finds  in  history  the  picturesque  or  significant  situation,  or  the 
interesting  personality,  he  may  claim  the  liberty  of  using  it  in  his 
own  setting ;  provided  only  that  he  does  not  do  sufficient  violence 
to  the  historic  sense  to  overbalance  and  destroy  the  aesthetic  pleasure 
given  by  the  new  combination.  We  should  demand  of  the  historical 
romance  only  that  it  make  us  feel  the  striking  situation  or  the  inter- 
esting personality  as  a  real  living  thing.  And  though  in  Ivanhoe 
Scott  has  removed  it  from  its  actual  setting,  he  has  made  us  feel,  as 
a  real  situation,  the  bitterness  and  ferment  amidst  which  English 
and  Norman  united  into  one  nation ;  so  living  and  so  charming  a 
picture  has  he  given  us  of  the  rash,  adventurous,  generous  side  of 
Richard's  nature,  that  it  has  almost  crowded  from  our  conscious- 
ness the  Richard  of  the  historians  ;  and  if  he  has  compressed  into 
this  one  picture  the  chivalry  of  three  centuries,  he  has  made  Ivan- 
hoe the  gateway  to  that  enchanting  world  for  the  boys  and  girls  of 
many  generations. 

VII.  The  Structure. — The  incidents  group  themselves  about 
three  striking  events  —  the  tournament,  the  storming  of  the  castle, 
the  judicial  combat  —  one  to  each  of  the  three  volumes.  But  since 
the  action  of  the  story  takes  place  within  ten  days,  and  the  same 
persons  and  interests  appear  in  each  event,  the  reader  receives  the 
impression  of  one  continuous  movement. 

The  chapters  that  prepare  for  these  events  and  link  them 
together  are  Scott's  opportunity  for  enlarging  his  canvas  and 
enriching  his  picture.  In  such  chapters  we  have  the  picture  of 
Cedric's  Hall,  the  meeting  of  the  Black  Knight  and  the  Friar,  the 
several  incidents  that  reveal  the  character  of  Isaac,  the  four  notable 
interviews  with  the  captives  in  Torquilstone,  the  revelation  of  the 
identity  of  the  Black  Knight  and  of  Locksley,  the  funeral  of 
Athelstane.  It  is  a  rich  book  that  can  so  "  ornament  construc- 
tion," that  can  use  such  material  in  chapters  whose  function  in 
the  structure  of  the  story  is  only  that  of  connecting  important 
events. 

VIII.  The  Plot.  —  Scott  never  cared  to  construct  an  elaborate  or 
artificial  plot.     He  valued  story  more  than  plot.     He  depended  for 


XV111  INTRODUCTION'. 

interest  upon  the  incidents  themselves,  and  thought  little  of  the 
"pattern  "  in  which  they  were  arranged.  We  may  distinguish  in 
the  plot  of  Ivanhoe  three  important  threads.  The  affairs  of  Wilfred 
of  Ivanhoe,  including  the  love  story  of  Wilfred  and  Rowena,  con- 
stitute the  central  thread  ;  another,  which  forms  a  sort  of  overplot, 
is  the  conspiracy  of  John,  the  disguise  and  adventures  of  Richard  ; 
the  third  thread,  which  we  may  call  also  an  underplot,  is  made  up 
of  the  experiences  of  the  Templar  and  Rebecca.  These  threads 
are  closely  and  skilfully  interwoven  by  the  participation  of  the 
main  actors  in  each  of  the  threads,  in  the  incidents  and  interests 
of  the  others.  Wilfred  is  the  loyal  friend  and  follower  of  Richard, 
and  he  is  also  the  rival  of  the  Templar ;  Rebecca  is  the  object  of  the 
Templar's  persecution,  while  she  is  at  the  same  time  the  lover  of 
Ivanhoe  ;  Robin  Hood,  the  Friar,  and  Wamba,  share  in  the  action 
of  all  the  threads. 

Though  the  three  threads  are  skilfully  interwoven,  we  con- 
stantly feel  that  attention  is  not  justly  distributed  among  them. 
We  rightly  expect  the  central  thread  of  the  story  to  receive  most 
attention  and  awaken  most  concern.  But  in  Ivanhoe  we  find  our- 
selves more  interested  in  the  fortunes  of  Richard  or  of  the  Tem- 
plar than  in  those  of  Wilfred ;  more  attracted  by  the  nobility  of 
Rebecca  than  by  the  beauty  of  Rowena.  The  plot  loses  some 
charm  of  proportion  by  the  fact  that  the  three  important  events 
are  of  so  nearly  equal  importance.  There  is  no  height  of  achieve- 
ment upon  which  the  mind  may  rest.  One  feels,  too,  that  the 
artistic  unity  of  the  plot  is  hurt  by  the  several  successive  denoue- 
ments:  the  mystery  of  the  disguised  Wilfred  is  cleared  up  early 
in  the  story  ;  the  identity  of  the  Black  Knight  and  of  Locksley  is 
revealed  at  a  later  stage,  leaving  the  interest  to  be  carried  forward 
by  the  threatening  situation  of  Rebecca  —  a  sort  of  relay  race  of 
plot  interests,  which  one  would  not  find  in  a  well-organized  plot. 

IX.  The  Persons.  —  Every  reader  of  Ivanhoe  must  agree  with  the 
early  reviewers  that  it  is  stronger  as  a  story  and  as  a  pageant,  than 
as  presentation  of  character.  Scott  himself  says  of  it,  "It  is  a 
romance  of  chivalry,  not  of  character."  A  person  in  literature  is 
interesting  as  a  character  in  proportion  as  he  shows  inner  growth 
and  change ;  interest  in  character  really  means  interest  in  char- 
acter-progression.     It    is  the  novel  and  the   realist   that  place 


INTRODUCTION.  xix 

emphasis  upon  character ;  the  romance  and  the  romancer  are  con- 
cerned rather  with  events.  But  a  person  may  have  significance  as  a 
figure,  by  virtue  of  the  position  he  holds  in  the  movement  of  events, 
or  by  reason  of  the  dignity  and  importance  of  the  institution  or 
class  that  he  represents.  Scott  makes  all  the  persons  in  Ivanhoe 
interesting  as  figures.  He  exercises  the  romancer's  right  of  intro- 
ducing his  people  full-grown,  and  unalterable,  of  handling  them, 
not  as  portraits  of  individual  and  complete  men,  but  rather  as 
types,  symbols,  elements  of  plot.  As  such  they  are  all  picturesque 
and  important. 

Cedric  is  significant  for  us  as  the  symbol  of  the  vanishing  order — 
his  forlorn  national  hope  it  is  that  gives  the  primal  motive  of  the 
story ;  Wilfred,  as  the  type  of  the  lover,  the  loyal  knight,  the  flower 
of  chivalry,  the  symbol  of  the  new  order ;  Richard,  as  the  type  of  tne 
adventurer,  the  crusading  prince  ;  the  Templar,  as  the  dissolute, 
sceptical  crusader,  the  representative  of  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
of  mediaeval  institutions,  the  degenerate  knight,  and  the  evil  prin- 
ciple in  the  plot ;  Robin  Hood,  the  good  outlaw,  the  earthly 
Providence  of  the  story ;  De  Bracy,  the  charming  type  of  the  Free 
Companions — always  a  fascinating  figure  to  Scott;  Rowena  and 
Rebecca  interesting  for  their  beauty,  and  as  occasions  for  struggle, 
and  prizes  to  be  won  -f  Wamba  and  the  Friar,  as  supplying  the 
comic  element ;  abbot,  monk,  Templar,  Norman  noble,  Saxon 
thane  —  each  claims  attention  and  remembrance.  To  the  state- 
ment that  Scott  makes  the  persons  of  Ivanhoe  interesting  only  as 
figures,  we  must  make  exception  in  the  case  of  Rebecca,  since  she 
reveals  an  important  inner  experience  —  her  love  of  Wilfred  and 
her  struggle  against  it  give  interest  to  her  as  a  study  in  character- 
development.  So  for  one  reason  or  another  they  are  all  memorable. 
They  partake  of  the  glamour  of  the  thrilling  and  noble  scenes  in 
which  they  move  ;  they  help  to  people  the  world  of  romance  with 
figures  heroic,  faithful,  gay,  beautiful.  "  Amo  Locksley,  Amo  the 
Templar,"  says  Thackeray;  and  Andrew  Lang  adds,  "And  we 
love  Wamba  and  Gurth  and  Gurth's  dog  Fangs ;  and  Rebecca  is 
almost  our  first  love  among  the  daughters  of  dreams." 

X.  The  Background.  —  Ivanhoe  has  this  characteristic  of  all 
great  stories :  from  behind  the  activity  with  which  the  book  con- 
cerns itself  we  hear  the  hum  and  stir  of  mighty  events.     We  feel 


XX  INTRODUCTION. 

clearly  the  life  and  influence  of  the  larger  institutions  whose  repre- 
sentatives came  upon  the  stage  as  actors  in  this  smaller  drama  ;  the 
state,  behind  and  above  the  rivalry  of  Richard  and  John  ;  the 
crusades,  out  of  whose  stir  and  enthusiasm  Richard  and  Wilfred 
have  dropped  for  an  hour ;  the  petty  wars  to  which  De  Bracy's 
condottieri  troop  away  ;  the  stately  chivalry,  whose  pomp  we  wit- 
ness in  these  brief  hours  at  Ashby  and  at  Templestowe  ;  the  Order 
of  the  Templars ;  the  church ;  the  outlaw  brotherhood  ;  the  waning 
English  hopes ;  the  inexplicable  fanaticism  that  persecuted  the 
Jews  —  from  out  this  enormous  activity  emerge  the  thrilling  action 
and  moving  passions  of  our  story. 

Upon  the  nearer  setting  of  his  story  Scott  expended  much  pains. 
His  delight  in  the  details  of  mediaeval  manners,  and  his  antiquarian 
studies  supplied  him  abundance  of  material.  And  there  is  some- 
thing peculiarly  charming  in  those  details  which  give  both  veri- 
similitude and  enrichment  to  the  picture.  Such  are  the  glimpses  we 
have  of  hall  and  castle  and  tower,  of  lists,  of  hermitage,  of  dun- 
geon, of  arras,  of  kirtle  and  cloak  and  plume  and  jewel. 

The  local  setting  of  the  action  is  explained  by  the  fact  that  in 
travelling  from  Ashby-de-la-Zouche  to  the  valley  of  the  Don,  it  was 
necessary  to  pass  through  Sherwood  Forest ;  and  by  this  passage 
through  the  Forest  hangs  the  tale.  Here  much  of  the  action  takes 
place,  and  considering  this  fact,  we  should  naturally  expect  to  find 
much  reflection  of  the  woods  and  wild  nature.  But  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  the  forest  setting  is  quite  apart  from  the  story.  It  is  the  world 
of  man  we  are  concerned  with  ;  Sherwood  Forest  is  everywhere 
intersected  with  foot-paths  worn  by  human  tread,  with  bridle-roads 
that  often  know  the  hoof  of  knightly  charger  or  churchly  palfrey  ; 
the  dingle  holds  the  hermit's  cell,  the  thickets  are  chapels  for  St. 
Nicholas's  clerks ;  the  wild  goose  wings  the  outlaw's  shaft  or  gives 
the  Abbot  a  pen  ;  the  red  deer  stock  the  hermit's  larder  ;  only  by 
inference  can  we  tell  the  season  of  the  year  —  no  flowers  are  at 
our  feet,  and  not  a  bird  sings  on  the  bough. 

XI.  The  Style.  —  In  the  matter  of  style,  as  in  so  many  other 
matters  that  concerned  his  work,  we  find  Scott  quite  aware  both  of 
his  defects  and  his  qualities.  He  says,  "  I  am  sensible  that  if  there 
be  anything  good  about  my  poetry,  or  prose  either,  it  is  a  hurried 
frankness  of  composition  which  pleases  soldiers,  sailors,  and  young 


INTRODUCTION.  xxi 

people  of  bold  and  active  dispositions."  1  One  need  seek  no  further 
than  "hurried  frankness  of  composition"  for  a  phrase  that  ade- 
quately distinguishes  Scott's  style.  It  is  the  characteristic  epic 
style,  barring  the  grandeur ;  rapid,  unadorned,  unimaginative,  not 
pausing  for  delicate  phrases,  sparing  of  figures.  Scott  had  nothing 
of  the  lyric  gift.  The  power  of  introspection,  of  analysis,  of  com- 
parison, with  its  accompanying  delicacy  and  finish  of  expression, 
was  not  his.  We  may  say  of  him  what  Goethe  so  wisely  said  of 
Byron,  "  the  moment  he  reflects  he  is  a  child"  (sobalcl  er  reflectirt 
ist  er  ein  Kind).  A  reader  must  be  very  young  who  does  not  smile 
at  the  "  Satanic"  eloquence  in  which  the  Templar  gives  Rebecca 
his  emotional  history.  Luckily,  there  are  few  such  passages  in  all 
Scott's  work ;  even  his  verses  are  of  the  epic,  ballad  kind.  It  is 
wise,  therefore,  to  take  the  attitude  of  the  soldiers,  sailors,  and 
young  people  of  bold  and  active  dispositions,  and  enjoy  Scott's 
hurried  frankness  of  composition  as  the  most  appropriate  vehicle 
for  his  subject-matter.  It  is  seen  at  its  best  in  Ivanhoe  in  the 
passage  describing  the  first  encounter  between  Ivanhoe  and  the 
Templar  in  the  lists  at  Ashby. 

It  did  not  seem  desirable  to  point  out  in  special  notes  the  many 
inaccuracies  and  errors,  grammatical  and  rhetorical,  that  may  be 
found  in  Ivanhoe.  If  the  student  is  sensitive  to  such  things  he 
will  easily  discover  them  ;  and  if  he  does  not  detect  them  he  is 
probably  destined  to  be  a  soldier,  a  sailor,  or  some  such  bold  and 
active  person  to  whom  the  technicalities  of  expression  will  not 
matter. 

The  epic  manner  is  not  suited  for  dialogue.  So  long  as  the  talk 
is  oratory,  a  formal  discussion,  or  a  series  of  set  speeches,  it  goes 
well  enough.  But  the  give  and  take,  the  quick  flashes  and  sup- 
pressed steps  of  actual  conversation,  fare  badly  in  the  epic  style. 
Scott's  dialogues  have  the  air  of  set  speech.  They  are  usually 
overworked,  being  compelled  to  carry  forward  the  story,  and  even 
to  bring  up  arrears  of  information  from  outside  the  limits  of  the 
story.  The  most  natural  and  skilful  dialogue  in  Ivanhoe  is  that 
in  the  twenty-ninth  chapter  between  Rebecca  and  the  wounded 
knight.     Perhaps  this  owes  its  success  to  the  fact  that  its  purpose 

i  Lockhart's  Life  of  Scott,  Vol.  VIII.,  370. 


xxii  INTRODUCTION. 

is  quite  frankly  that  of  giving  information,  and  that  it  does  not 
profess  to  be  an  exchange  of  ideas. 

From  the  Dedicatory  Epistle  we  learn  that  Scott  had  carefully 
considered  the  difficulty  of  imparting  an  antique  flavor  to  his  dia- 
logue while  avoiding  the  absurdity  of  a  mock-antiquated  diction. 
The  compromise  which  he  adopted  —  an  essentially  modern  speech 
strongly  reminiscent  of  Shakespeare  and  King  James's  Bible  —  has 
ever  since  been  accepted  as  the  proper  vernacular  of  what  Robert 
Louis  Stevenson  called  "  Tusbery." 

In  descriptions  of  physical  nature  we  find  what  we  should 
expect  in  Scott,  —  a  quick  but  apprehensive  glance  at  the  salient 
features  of  the  scene.  But  in  descriptions  of  buildings,  dress, 
and  other  appointments,  the  antiquarian  is  likely  to  get  the  better 
of  the  story-teller ;  and  the  narrative  waits  while  he  lingers  lov- 
ingly over  the  details  that  so  fascinated  him.  This,  one  may 
notice  in  the  description  of  Cedric's  Hall,  in  the  preparations  for 
the  tournament,  but  especially  in  the  description  of  the  castle  of 
Coningsburgh. 

One  does  not  often  read  a  book  of  any  kind  that  has  in  it  so 
little  of  the  gnomic  element  as  has  Ivanhoe.  Not  only  does  Scott 
make  no  comment  in  his  own  person,  but  we  find  that  no  person 
in  the  story  utters  a  sentence  of  what  we  may  call  wisdom. 
Beyond  a  half-dozen  of  the  most  obvious  reflections,  there  is  not  a 
philosophic,  ethical,  or  even  practical  generalization  in  the  book. 
In  this  matter  Scott  well-nigh  achieves  the  complete  self-effacement 
of  the  folk-balladist. 

In  General.  —  Every  book  has  a  right  to  demand  that  its  reader 
meet  it  on  its  own  ground.  If  it  is  worth  reading  at  all  it  is  worth 
adjusting  oneself  to  in  sympathy,  so  as  to  apprehend  its  centre,  its 
first  intention.  To  expect  delicate  character  study  in  Ivanhoe 
would  be  as  unwise  as  to  ask  heroic  adventures  in  The  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,  or  mediaeval  manners  in  The  Last  of  the  Mohicans.  But 
to  mention  the  specific  things  that  we  may  expect  to  find  in  Ivan- 
hoe is  not  an  easy  task  —  so  many  and  so  various  are  its  contribu- 
tions to  our  joy.  First,  it  satisfies  the  universal  human  craving  for 
a  good  tale,  carrying  us  in  delight  from  incident  to  incident,  from 
picture  to  picture,  through  to  a  satisfying  close.  Then  it  has  the 
indefinable  charm  of  romance  —  giving  us  the  freedom  of  a  world 


INTRODUCTION.  XXlll 

"  afar  from  the  sphere  of  our  sorrow,"  a  dateless,  unchanging  world 
always  within  easy  reach.  In  Ivanhoe  we  breathe  the  sane  and 
wholesome  air  of  a  heroic  simple  life  —  the  life  of  objective  deeds 
and  sheer  accomplishment.  To  the  brave  company  that  peoples 
our  world  of  dreams  it  adds  many  figures,  noble,  bold,  beautiful, 
gay  —  knights  and  ladies,  merry-men  and  troubadours,  pilgrim  and 
crusader,  friar  and  jester.  It  touches  the  past  with  a  glow  of 
poetry,  lighting  up  situations,  institutions,  and  men,  making  real 
and  rich  for  us  those  things  that  in  the  technical  records  seem 
meagre  and  colorless.  Its  style  gives  us  the  refreshment  of 
writing  which,  though  it  may  not  be  delicately  correct,  is  also  not 
consciously  fine  nor  painfully  precise,  but  which  moves  buoyantly 
forward  without  strain  and  without  weariness. 


LIST  OF  BOOKS. 

The  Life  of  Scott.  J.  G.  Lockhart.  (The  references  in  this 
volume  are  to  the  edition  of  1882,  A.  &  C.  Black.) 

Scott.     Richard  H.  Hutton.     (English  Men  of  Letters.) 

The  Journal  of  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

Familiar  Letters  of  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

Waverley.     (Preface  to  the  edition  of  1829.) 

The  Antiquary. 

The  Monastery. 

The  Talisman. 

English  and  Scottish  Ballads,  vol.  v.    F.  J.  Child. 

Old  English  Ballads.     Francis  B.  Gummere. 

England  under  the  Angevin  Kings.    Kate  Norgate. 

A  Short  History  of  the  English  People.  J.  R.  Green.  (All  his- 
torical references  in  this  volume  have  been  made  to  the  Short  His- 
tory as  probably  accessible  to  most  students.) 


xxiv  SUGGESTED  EMENDATIONS. 

SUGGESTED  EMENDATIONS. 

Certain  obvious  slips  of  memory,  or  of  the  pen,  such  as  "  William 
Rufus,  his  grandfather ,"  page  77,  "the  six  hundred  crowns,"  page 
353,  "your  sire  Henry"  etc.,  have  been  pointed  out  in  the  notes. 
Certain  others  not  so  obvious  require  special  mention.  They  have 
stood  so  long  in  the  text,  it  would  have  seemed  a  sort  of  irreverence 
to  remove  them.  Therefore  they  are  collected  here.  A  few  of 
these  which  seem  entirely  reasonable  have  not  been  noted,  so  far  as 
I  have  been  able  to  find,  by  any  previous  editor. 

Page  12.  In  "  Quaker  beauty  who  while  she  .  .  .  continues  to  give  " 
etc.,  for  continues  read  contrives.     (Not  previously  noted.) 

P.  69.    In  "Richard  de  Malvoisin,"  for  Richard  read  Philip. 

P.  89.  In  "  general  device  of  his  rider,"  for  rider  read  Order.  (Not 
previously  noted.) 

P.  102.  In  "  signs  and  sounds  of  a  tumultuous  concourse,"  for  signs 
read  sights.     (Not  previously  noted.) 

P.  196.  In  "better  than  a  cow-keeper,"  for  cow-keeper  read  croiv- 
keeper.  See  crow-keeper  in  the  Century  Dictionary  and  in  the  New 
English  Dictionary,  noting  the  connection  in  the  citations  between 
crow-keeping  and  poor  archery.  (Professor  Perry  also  suggests  this 
reading.) 

P.  223.    In  "  twice-winded  without  the  castle,"  for  twice  read  thrice. 

P.  266.  In  "  and  yet  retain  the  power  to  prevent,"  for  prevent  read 
repent.     (Not  previously  noted.) 

P.  402.  In  "  Nathan  ben  Samuel,"  for  Samuel  read  Israel.   See  p.  371. 


IVANHOE:   A  ROMANCE 

Now  fitted  the  halter,  now  traversed  the  cart, 
And  often  took  leave  —  but  seemed  loath  to  depart,1 

—  Prior. 


*  This  motto  alludes  to  the  Author  returning  to  the  stage 
repeatedly  after  having  taken  leave. 


IVANHOE. 


.-  - 
CHAPTER   I. 

Thus  communed  these  ;  while  to  their  lowly  dome 
The  full-fed  swine  return'd  with  evening  home, 
Compell'd,  reluctant,  to  the  several  sties, 
With  din  obstreperous  and  ungrateful  cries. 

Pope's  Odyssey. 

In  that  pleasant  district  of  merry  England  which  is 
watered  by  the  river  Don,  there  extended  in  ancient  times 
a  large  forest,  covering  the  greater  part  of  the  beautiful 
hills  and  valleys  which  lie  between  Sheffield  and  the  pleas- 
ant town  of  Doncaster.  The  remains  of  this  extensive 
wood  are  still  to  be  seen  at  the  noble  seats  of  Went- 
worth,  of  Wharncliffe  Park,  and  around  Rotherham. 
Here  haunted  pJLyore  ^ne  fabulous  Dragon  of  Wantley ; 
here  were  fought  many  of  the  most  desperate  battles  dur- 
ing the  Civil  Wars  of  the  Roses  ;  and  here  also  flourished 
in  ancient  times  those  bands  of  gallant  outlaws  whose 
deeds  have  been  rendered  so  popular  in  English  song. 

Such  being  our  chief  scene,  the  date  of  our  story  refers 
to  a  period  towards  the  end  of  the  reign  of  llichard  L, 
when  his  return  from  his  long  captivity  had  become  an 
event  rather  wished  than  hoped  for  by  his  despairing 
subjects,  who  were  in  the  meantime  subjected  to  every 
species  of  subordinate  oppression.  The  nobles,  whose 
power  had  become  exorbitant  during  the  reign  of  Stephen,  <&*a 
and  whom  the  prudence  of  Henry  the  Second  had  scarce 
reduced  into  some  degree  of  subjection  to  the  crown,  had 
now  resumed  their  ancient  license  in  its  utmost  extent ; 
despising  the  feeble  interference  of  the  English  Council 

B      jw~fM<^     1 


2  IVANHOE. 

of  State,  fortifying  their  castles,  increasing  the  number  of 
their  dependants,  reducing  all  around  them  to  a  state  of 
vassalage,  and  striving  by  every  means  in  their  power 
to  place  themselves  each  at  the  head  of  such  forces  as 
might  enable  him  to  make  a  figure  in  the  national  con- 
Yiilsions  which  appeared  to  be  impending. 

The  situation  of  the  inferior  gentry ...  or  Franklins,  as 
they  were  called,  who,  by  the  law  and  spirit  of  the  Eng- 
lish constitution,  were  entitled  to  hold  themselves  in- 
dependent of  feudal  tyranny,  became  now  unusually 
precarious.  If,  as  was  most  generally  the  case,  they 
placed  themselves  under  the  protection  of  any  of  the 
petty  kings  in  their  vicinity,  accepted  of  feudal  offices  in 
his  household,  or  bound  themselves,  by  mutual  treaties  of 
alliance  and  protection,  to  support  him  in  his  enterprises, 
they  might  indeed  purchase  temporary  repose  ;  but  it  must 
be  with  the  sacrifice  of  that  independence  which  was  so 
dear  to  every  English  bosom,  and  at  the  certain  hazard  of 
being  involved  as  a  party  in  whatever  rash  expedition  the 
ambition  of  their  protector  might  lead  him  to  undertake. 
On  the  other  hand,  such  and  so  multiplied  were  the  means 
of  vexation  and  oppression  possessed  by  the  great  barons, 
that  they  never  wanted  the  pretext,  and  seldom  the  will, 
to  harass  and  pursue,  even  to  the  very  edge  of  destruction, 
any  of  their  less  powerful  neighbours  who  attempted  to 
separate  themselves  from  their  authority,  and  to  trust  for 
their  protection,  during  the  dangers  of  the  times,  to  their 
own  inoffensive  conduct  and  to  the  laws  of  the  land. 

A  circumstance  which  greatly  tended  to  enhance  the 
tyranny  of  the  nobility,  and  the  sufferings  of  the  inferior 
classes,  arose  from  the  consequences  of  the  Conquest  by 
Duke  William  of  Normandy.  Four  generations  had  not 
sufficed  to  blend  the  hostile  blood  of  the  Normans  and 
Anglo-Saxons,  or  to  unite,  by  common  language  and  mu- 
tual interests,  two  hostile  races,  one  of  which  still  felt 
the  elation  of  triumph,  while  the  other  groaned  under  all 
the  consequences  of  defeat.  The  power  had  been  com- 
pletely placed  in  the  hands  of  the  Norman  nobility  by  the 
event  of  the  battle  of  Hastings,  and  it  had  been  used,  as 
our  histories  assure  us,  with  no  moderate  hand.    The  whole 


IVANHOE.  3 

race  of  Saxon  princes  and  nobles  had  been  extirpated,  or  dis- 
inherited, with  few  or  no  exceptions  ;  nor  were  the  numbers 
great  who  possessed  land  in  the  country  of  their  fathers,  even 
as  proprietors  of  the  second  or  of  yet  inferior  classes.    The 
royal  policy  had  long  been  to  weakeD,  by  every  means, 
legal  or  illegal,  the  strength  of  a  part  of  the  population 
which  was  justly  considered  as  nourishing  the  most  in- 
veterate antipathy  to  their  victor.     All  the  monarch s  of 
the  Norman  race  had  shown  the  most  marked  predilec- 
tion for  their  Norman  subjects ;  the  laws  of  the  chase, 
and  many  others,  equally  unknown  to  the  milder  and 
more  free  spirit  of  the  Saxon  constitution,  had  been  fixed 
upon  the  necks  of  the   subjugated  inhabitants,  to  add 
weight,  as  it  were,  to  the  feudal  chains  with  which  they 
were  loaded.     At  court,  and  in  the  castles  of  the  great 
nobles,  where  the  pomp  and  state  of  a  court  was  emu- 
lated, Norman-French  was  the  only  language  employed ; 
in   courts   of   law,  the   pleadings   and   judgments  were 
delivered  in  the  same  tongue.     In  short,  French  was  the 
language  of  honour,  of  chivalry,  and  even  of  justice,  while 
the  far   more   manly  and   expressive  Anglo-Saxon  was 
abandoned  to  the  use  of  rustics  and  hinds,  who  knew  no 
other.     Still,  however,  the  necessary  intercourse  between 
the  lords  of  the  soil,  and  those  oppressed  inferior  beings 
by  whom  that  soil  was  cultivated,  occasioned  the  gradual 
jl^    formation  of  a  dialect,  compounded  betwixt  the  French 
and  the  Anglo-Saxon,  in  which  they  could  render  them- 
selves mutually  intelligible  to  each  other;  and  from  this 
necessity  arose  by  degrees  the  structure  of  our  present 
English  language,  in  which  the  speech  of  the  victors  and 
the  vanquished  have  been  so  happily  blended  together  » 
and  which  has  since  been  so  richly  improved  by  importa 
tions  from  the  classical  languages,  and  from  those  spoken 
by  the  southern  nations  of  Europe. 

•  This  state  of  things  I  have  thought  it  necessary  to 
premise  for  the  information  of  the  general  reader,  who 
might  be  apt  to  forget  that,  although  no  great  historical 
events,  such  as  war  or  insurrection,  mark  the  existence 
of  the  Anglo-Saxons  as  a  separate  people  subsequent  to 
the  reign  of  William  the  Second,  yet  the  great  national 


4  IVANHOE. 

distinctions  betwixt  them  and  their  conquerors,  the  recol= 
lection  of  what  they  had  formerly  been,  and  to  what  they 
were  now  reduced,  continued,  down  to -the  reign  of  Edward 
the  Third,  to  keep  open  the  wounds  which  the  Conquest 
had  inflicted,  and  to  maintain  a  line  of  separation  betwixt 
the  descendants  of  the  victor  Normans  and  the  vanquished 
Saxons.  • 

The  sun  was  setting  upon  one  of  the  rich  grassy  glades 
-of  that  forest  which  we  have  mentioned  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  chapter.  Hundreds  of  broad-headed,  short- 
stemmed,  wide-branched  oaks,  which  had  witnessed 
perhaps  the  stately  march  of  the  Roman  soldiery,  flung 
their  gnarled  arms  over  a  thick  carpet  of  the  most  deli- 
cious greensward ;  in  some  places  they  were  intermingled 
with  beeches,  hollies  and  copsewood  of  various  descrip- 
tions, so  closely  as  totally  to  intercept  the  level  beams 
of  the  sinking  sun ;  in  others  they  receded  from  each 
other,  forming  those  long  sweeping  vistas  in  the  intricacy 
of  which  the  eye  delights  to  lose  itself,  while  imagination 
considers  them  as  the  paths  to  yet  wilder  scenes  of 
silvan  solitude.  Here  the  red  rays  of  the  sun  shot  a 
broken  and  discoloured  light,  that  partially  jhung  upon 
the  shattered  boughs  and  mossy  trunks  of  the  trees,  and 
there  they  illuminated  in  brilliant  patches  the  portions 
of  turf  to  which  they  made  their  way.  A  considerable 
open  space,  in  the  midst  of  this  glade,  seemed  formerly 
to  have  been  dedicated  to  the  rites  of  Druidical  super- 
stition ;  for,  on  the  summit  of  a  hillock,  so  regular  as  to 
seem  artificial,  there  still  remained  part  of  a  circle  of 
rough,  unhewn  stones  of  large  dimensions.  Seven  stood 
upright;  the  rest  had  been  dislodged  from  their  places, 
probably  by  the  zeal  of  some  jconvext.to  Christianity,  and 
lay,  some  prostrate  near  their  former  site,  and  others  on 
the  side  of  the  hill.  One  large  stone  only  had  founcjjjfts 
way  to  the  bottom,  and  in  stopping  the  course  of  a  small 
brook  which  glided  smoothly  round  the  foot  of  the  emi- 
nence, gave,  by  its  opposition,  a  feeble  voice  of  murmur 
to  the  placid  and  elsewhere  silent  streamlet. 

The  human  figures  which   completed   this   landscape 


IVANHOE.  5 

were  in  number  two,  partaking,  in  their  dress  and  appear- 
ance, of  that  wild  and  rustic  character  which  belonged 
to  the  woodlands  of  the  West  Riding  of  Yorkshire  at 
that  early  period.  The  eldest  of  these  men  had  a  stern, 
savage,  and  wild  aspect.  His  garment  was  of  the  simplest 
form  imaginable,  being  a  close  jacket  with  sleeves,  com- 
posed of  the  tanned  skin  of  some  animal,  on  which  the 
hair  had  been  originally  left,  but  which  had  been  worn 
off  in  so  many  places  that  it  would  have  been  difficult  to 
distinguish,  from  the  patches  that  remained,  to  what  * 
creature  the  fur  had  belonged.  This  primeval  vestment 
reached  from  the  throat  to  the  knees,  and  served  at  once 
all  the  usual  purposes  of  body-clothing ;  there  was  no 
wider  opening  at  the  collar  than  was  necessary  to  admit 
the  passage  of  the  head,  from  which  it  may  be  inferred 
that  it  was  put  on  by  slipping  it  over  the  head  and 
shoulders,  in  the  manner  of  a  modern  shirt,  or  ancient 
hauberk.  Sandals,  bound  with  thongs  made  of  boar's 
hide,  protected  the  feet,  and  a  roll  of  thin  leather  was 
twined  artificially  round  the  legs,  and,  ascending  above 
the  calf,  left  the  knees  bare,  like  those  of  a  Scottish  High- 
lander. To  make  the  jacket  sit  yet  more  close  to  the  body, 
it  was  gathered  at  the  middle  by  a  broad  leathern  belt, 
secured  by  a  brass  buckle;  to  one  side  of  which  was 
attached  a  sort  of  scrip,  and  to  the  other  a  ram's  horn, 
accoutred  with  a  mouthpiece,  for  the  purpose  of  blowing. 
In  the  same  belt  was  stuck  one  of  those  long,  broad, 
sharp-pointed,  and  two-edged  knives,  with  a  buck's-horn 
handle,  which  were  fabricated  in  the  neighbourhood,  and 
bore  even  at  this  early  period  the  name  of  a  Sheffield 
ywhittle.  The  man  had  no  covering  upon  his  head,  which 
was  only  defended  by  his  own  thick  hair,  matted  and 
,  twisted  together,  and  scorched  by  the  influence  of  the 
sun  into  a  rusty  dark-red  colour,  forming  a  contrast  with 
the  overgrown  beard  upon  his  cheeks,  which  was  rather 
of  a  yellow  or  amber  hue.  One  part  of  his  dress  only 
remains,  but  it  is  too  remarkable  to  be  suppressed ;  it 
was  a  brass  ring,  resembling  a  dog's  collar,  but  without 
any  opening,  and  soldered  fast  round  his  neck,  so  loose  ; 
as  to  form  no  impediment  to  his  breathing,  yet  so  tight 


•  , 


6  IVANHOE. 

as  to  be  incapable  of  being  removed,  excepting  by  the 
use  of  the  file.  On  this  singular  gorget  was  engraved,  in 
Saxon  characters,  an  inscription  of  the  followingjpurport : 
"  G-urth,  the  son  of  Beowulph,  is  the  born  thrall  of  Cedric 
of  Rotherwood." 

Beside  the  swineherd,  for  such  was  G-urth's  occupation, 
was  seated,  upon  one  of  the  fallen  Druidical  monuments, 
a  person  about  ten  years  younger  in  appearance,  and 
whose  dress,  though  resembling  his  companion's  in  form, 
was  of  better  materials,  and  of  a  more  fantastic  descrip- 
tion. His  jacket  had  been  stained  of  a  bright  purple 
hue,  upon  which  there  had  been  some  attempt  to  paint 
grotesque  ornaments  in  different  colours.  To  the  jacket 
he  added  a  short  cloak,  which  scarcely  reached  half-way 
down  his  thigh ;  it  was  of  crimson  cloth,  though  a  good 
deal  soiled,  lined  with  bright  yellow;  and  as  he  could 
transfer  it  from  one  shoulder  to  the  other,  or  at  his 
pleasure  draw  it  all  around  him,  its  width,  contrasted 
with  its  want  of  longitude,  formed  a  fantastic  piece  of 
drapery.  He  had  thin  silver  bracelets  upon  his  arms, 
and  on  his  neck  a  collar  of  the  same  metal,  bearing  the 
inscription,  "  Wamba,  the  son  of  Witless,  is  the  thrall  of 
Cedric  of  Rotherwood."  This  personage  had  the  same 
sort  of  sandals  with  his  companion,  but  instead  of  the 
roll  of  leather  thong,  his  legs  were  cased  in  a  sort  of 
gaiters,  of  which  one  was  red  and  the  other  yellow.  He 
was  provided  also  with  a  cap,  having  around  it  more  than 
one  bell,  about  the  size  of  those  attached  to  hawks,  which 
jingled  as  he  turned  his  head  to  one  side  or  other;  and 
as  he  seldom  remained  a  minute  in  the  same  posture,  the 
sound  might  be  considered  as  incessant.  Around  the 
edge  of  this  cap  was  a  stiff  bandeau  of  leather,  cut  at 
the  top  into  open-work,  resembling  a  coronet,  while  a 
prolonged  bag  arose  from  within  it,  and  fell  down  on  one 
shoulder  like  an  old-fashioned  night-cap,  or  a  jelly-bag, 
or  the  head-gear  of  a  modern  hussar.  It  was  to  this  part 
of  the  cap  that  the  bells  were  attached ;  which  circum- 
stance, as  well  as  the  shape  of  his  head-dress,  and  his 
own  half-crazed,  half-cunning  expression  of  countenance, 
sufficiently  pointed  him  out  as  belonging  to  the  race  of 


fit* 

IVANHOE.  7 

domestic  clowns  or  jesters,  maintained  in  the  houses 
of  the  wealthy,  to  help  away  the  tedium  of  those  linger- 
ing hours  which  they  were  obliged  to  spend  within 
doors.  He  bore,  like  his  companion,  a  scrip  attached 
to  his  belt,  but  had  neither  horn  nor  knife,  being  proba- 
bly considered  as  belonging  to  a  class  whom  it  is  es- 
teemed dangerous  to  entrust  with  edge-tools.  In  place 
of  these,  he  was  equipped  with  a  sword  of  lath,  resem-  i 
bling  that  with  which  Harlequin  operates  his  wonders 
upon  the  modern  stage. 

The  outward  appearance  of  those  two  men  formed 
scarce  a  stronger  contrast  than  their  look  and  demeanour. 
That  of  the  serf,  or  bondsman,  was  sad  and  sullen ;  his 
aspect  was  bent  on  the  ground  with  an  air  of  deep  de- 
jection, which  might  be  almost  construed  into  apathy, 
had  not  the  fire  which  occasionally  sparkled  in  his  red 
eye  manifested  that  there  slumbered,  under  the  appear- 
ance of  sullen  despondency;  a  sense  of  oppression,  and  a 
disposition  to  resistance.  The  looks  of  Wamba,  on  the 
other  hand,  indicated,  as  usual  with  his  class,  a  sort  of 
vacant  curiosity,  and  fidgety  impatience  of  any  posture 
of  repose,  together  with  the  utmost  self-satisfaction  re- 
specting his  own  situation  and  the  appearance  which  he 
made.  The  dialogue  which  they  maintained  between 
them  was  carried  on  in  Anglo-Saxon,  which,  as  we  said 
before,  was  universally  spoken  by  the  inferior  classes, 
excepting  the  Norman  soldiers  and  the  immediate  per- 
sonal dependants  of  the  great  feudal  nobles.  But  to  give 
their  conversation  in  the  original  would  convey  but  little 
information  to  the  modern  reader,  for  whose  benefit  we 
beg  to  offer  the  following  translation  : 

"The  curse  of  St.  Withold  upon  these  infernal  pork- 
ers!" said  the  swineherd,  after  blowing  his  horn  obstrep- 
erously, to  collect  together  the  scattered  herd  of  swine, 
which,  answering  his  call  with  notes  equally  melodious, 
made,  however,  no  haste  to  remove  themselves  from  the 
luxurious  ^banquet  of  beech-mast,  and  acorns  on  which  ^. 
they  had  fattened,  or  to  forsake  the  marshy  banks  of 
the  rivulet,  where  several  of  them,  half  plunged  in  mud, 
lay  stretched  at  their  ease,  altogether  regardless  of  the 


8  IVANHOE. 

voice  of  their  keeper.  "  The  curse  of  St.  Withold  upon 
them  and  upon  me ! "  said  Gurth ;  "  if  the  two-legged 
wolf  snap  not  up  some  of  them  ere  nightfall,  I  am  no 
true  man.  Here,  Fangs,  Fangs ! "  he  ejaculated  at  the 
top  of  his  voice  to  a  ragged,  wolfish-looking  dog,  a  sort  of 
lurcher,  half  mastiff,  half  greyhound,  which  ran  limping 
about  as  if  with  the  purpose  of  seconding  his  master  in 
collecting  the  refractory  grunters ;  but  which,  in  fact,  from 
misapprehension  of  the  swineherd's  signals,  ignorance  of 
his  own  duty,  or  malice  prepense,  only  drove  them  hither 
and  thither,  and  increased  the  evil  which  he  seemed  to 
design  to  remedy.  "A  devil  draw  the  teeth  of  him," 
said  Gurth,  "  and  the  mother  of  mischief  confound  the 
ranger  of  the  forest,  that  cuts  the  fore-claws  off  our  dogs, 
and  makes  them  unfit  for  their  trade  !  Wamba,  up  and 
help  me  an  thou  beest  a  man ;  take  a  turn  round  the 
back  o'  the  hill  to  gain  the  wind  on  them;  and  when 
thou'st  got  the  weather-gage,  thou  mayst  drive  them  before 
thee  as  gently  as  so  many  innocent  lambs." 

"  Truly,"  said  Wamba,  without  stirring  from  the  spot, 
"I  have  consulted  my  legs  upon  this  matter,  and  they 
are  altogether  of  opinion  that  to  carry  my  gay  garments 
through  these  sloughs  would  be  an  act  of  unfriendship 
to  my  sovereign  person  and  royal  wardrobe ;  wherefore, 
Gurth,  I  advise  thee  to  call  off  Fangs,  and  leave  the  herd 
to  their  destiny,  which,  whether  they  meet  with  bands  of 
travelling  soldiers,  or  of,  outlaws,  or  of  wandering  pil- 
grims, can  be  little  else  than  to  be  converted  into  Nor- 
mans before  morning,  to  thy  no  small  ease  and  comfort." 

"  The  swine  turned  Normans  to  my  comfort ! "  quoth 
Gurth ;  "  expound  that  to  me,  Wamba,  for  my  brain  is 
too  dull  and  my  mind  too  vexed  to  read  riddles." 

"Why,  how  call  you  those  grunting  brutes  running 
about  on  their  four  legs  ?  "  demanded  Wamba. 

"  Swine,  fool,  swine,"  said  the  herd ;  "  every  fool  knows 
that." 

"  And  swine  is  good  Saxon,"  said  the  Jester ;  "  but  how 
call  you  the  sow  when  she  is  ^flayed,  and  drawn,  and 
quartered,  and  hung  up  by  the  heels,  like  a  traitor  ?  " 

"  Pork,"  answered  the  swineherd. 


IVANHOE.  9 

"  I  am  very  glad  every  fool  knows  that  too,"  said 
Wamba,  "  and  pork,  I  think,  is  good  Norman-French ; 
and  so  when  the  brute  lives,  and  is  in  the  charge  of  a 
Saxon  slave,  she  goes  by  her  Saxon  name ;  but  becomes 
a  Norman,  and  is  called  pork,  when  she  is  carried  to  the 
castle  hall  to  feast  among  the  nobles.  What  dost  thou 
think  of  this,  friend  Gurth,  ha  ?  " 

"It  is  but  too  true  doctrine,  friend  Wamba,  however 
it  got  into  thy  fool's  pate.'.' 

"Nay,  I  can  tell  you  more,"  said  Wamba  in  the  same 
tone :  "  there  is  old  Alderman  Ox  continues  to  hold  his 
Saxon  epithet  while  he  is  under  the  charge  of  serfs 
and  bondsmen  such  as  thou,  but  becomes  Beef,  a  fiery 
French  gallant,  when  he  arrives  before  the  worshipful 
jaws  that  are  destined  to  consume  him.  Mynherr  Calf, 
too,  becomes  Monsieur  de  Veau  in  the  like  manner :  he  is 
Saxon  when  he  requires  tendance,  and  takes  a  Norman 
name  when  he  becomes  matter  of  enjoyment. 

"By  St.  Dunstan,"  answered  Gurth,  "thou  speakest 
but  sad  truths ;  little  is  left  to  us  but  the  air  we  breathe, 
and  that  appears  to  have  been  reserved  with  much  hesita- 
tion, solely  for  the  purpose  of  enabling  us  to  endure  the 
tasks  they  lay  upon  our  shoulders.  The  finest  and  the 
fattest  is  for  their  board  ;  the  loveliest  is  for  their  couch  ; 
the  best  and  bravest  supply  their  foreign  masters  with 
soldiers,  and  whiten  distant  lands  with  their  bones,leaving 
few  here  who  have  either  will  or  the  power  to  protect  the 
unfortunate  Saxon.  God's  blessing  on  our  Master  Cedric, 
he  hath  done  the  work  of  a  man  in  standing  in  the  gap ; 
but  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf  is  coming  down  to  this  coun- 
try in  person,  and  we  shall  soon  see  how  little  Cedric's 
trouble  will  avail  him.  —  Here,  here,"  he  exclaimed  again, 
raising  his  voice,  "  So  ho  !  so  ho  !  well  done,  Fangs !  thou 
hast  them  all  before  thee  now,  and  bring'st  them  on 
bravely,  lad." 

"  Gurth,"  said  the  Jester,  "  I  know  thou  thinkest  me  a 
fool,  or  thou  wouldst  not  be  so  rash  in  putting  thy  head 
into  my  mouth.  One  word  to  Reginald  Front-de-Bceuf  or 
Philip  de  Malvoisin,  that  thou  hast  spoken  treason  against 
the  Norman  —  and  thou  art  but  a  castaway  swineherd ; 


10  IV AN  HOE. 

thou  wouldst  waver  on  one  of  these  trees  as  a  terror  to 
all  evil  speakers  against  dignities." 

"  Dog,  thou  wouldst  not  _.betray  me,"  said  Gurth,  "  after 
having  led  me  on  to  speak  so  much  at  disadvantage  ?  " 

"  Betray  thee  !  "  answered  the  Jester ;  "  no,  that  were 
the  trick  of  a  wise  man;  a  fool  cannot  half  so  well  help 
himself.  —  Bat  soft,  whom  have  we  here  ?  "  he  said,  listen- 
ing to  the  trampling  of  several  horses  which  became  then 
audible. 

"  Never  mind  whom,"  answered  Gurth,  who  had  now 
got  his  herd  before  him,  and,  with  the  aid  of  Fangs,  was 
driving  them  down  one  of  the  long  dim  vistas  which  we 
have  endeavoured  to  describe. 

"  Nay,  bat  I  must  see  the  riders,"  answered  Wamba ; 
"  perhaps  they  are  come  from  Fairyland  with  a  message 
from  King  Oberon." 

"  A  murrain  take  thee  !  "  rejoined  the  swineherd  ;  "  wilt 
thou  talk  of  such  things,  while  a  terrible  storm  of  thunder 
and  lightning  is  raging  within  a  few  miles  of  us !  Hark, 
how  the  thunder  rumbles  !  and  for  summer  rain,  I  never 
saw  such  broad  downright  flat  drops  fall  out  of  the  clouds ; 
the  oaks,  too,  notwithstanding  the  calm  weather,  sob  and 
creak  with  their  great  boughs  as  if  announcing  a  tempest. 
Thou  canst  play  the  rational  if  thou  wilt ;  credit  me  for 
once,  and  let  us  home  ere  the  storm  begins  to  rage,  for 
the  night  will  be  fearful." 

Wamba  seemed  to  feel  the  force  of  this  appeal,  and 
accompanied  his  companion,  who  began  his  journey  after 
catching  up  a  long  quarter-staff  which  lay  upon  the  grass 
beside  him.  This  second  Eumaeus  strode  hastily  down 
the  forest  glade,  driving  before  him,  with  the  assistance 
of  Fangs,  the  whole  herd  of  his  inharmonious  charge. 


IV AN  HOE.  11 


CHAPTER   II. 

A  monk  there  was,  a  fay  re  for  the  uiaistrie, 
An  outrider  that  loved  venerie  ; 
A  manly  man,  to  be  an  abbot  able, 
Full  many  a  daintie  horse  had  he  in  stable. 
And  whan  he  rode,  men  might  his  bridle  hear 
Giugeling  in  a  whistling  wind  as  clear, 
And  eke  as  loud,  as  doth  the  chapell  bell, 
There  as  this  lord  was  keeper  of  the  cell. 

Chaucer. 

Notwithstanding  the  occasional  exhortation  and  chid- 
ing of  his  companion,  the  noise  of  the  horsemen's  feet 
continuing  to  approach,  Wamba  could  not  be  prevented 
from  lingering  occasionally  on  the  road,  upon  every  pre- 
tence which  occurred;  now  catching  from  the  hazel  a 
duster  of  half-ripe  nuts,  and  now  turning  his  head  to 
leer  after  a  cottage  maiden  who  crossed  their  path.  The 
horsemen,  therefore,  soon  overtook  them  on  the  road. 

Their  numbers  amounted  to  ten  men,  of  whom  the  two 
who  rode  foremost  seemed  to  be  persons  of  considerable 
importance,  and  the  others  their  attendants.  It  was  not 
difficult  to  ascertain  the  condition  and  character  of  one  of 
these  personages.  He  was  obviously  an  ecclesiastic  of 
high  rank;  his  dress  was  that  of  a  Cistercian  Monk,  but 
composed  of  materials  much  finer  than  those  which  the 
rule  of  that  order  admitted.  His  mantle  and  hood  were 
of  the  best  Flanders  cloth,  and  fell  in  ample,  and  not  un- 
graceful, folds  around  a  handsome  though  somewhat  cor- 
pulent person.  His  countenance  bore  as  little  the  marks 
of  self-denial  as  his  habit  indicated  contempt  of  worldly 
splendour.  His  features  might  have  been  called  good, 
had  there  not  lurked  under  the  pent-house  of  his  eye  that 
sly,  epicurean  twinkle  which  indicates  the  cautious  volup- 
tuary. In  other  respects,  his  profession  and  situation  had 
taught  him  a  ready  command  over  his  countenance,  which 
he  could  contract  at  pleasure  into  solemnity,  although  its 
natural  expression  was  that  of  good-humoured  social  in- 
dulgence. In  defiance  of  conventual  rules  and  the  edicts 
of  popes  and  councils,  the  sleeves  of  this  dignitary  were 


12  IVANHOE. 

lined  and  turned  up  with  rich  furs,  his  mantle  secured  at 
the  throat  with  a  golden  clasp,  and  the  whole  dress  proper 
to  his  order  as  much  refined  upon  and  ornamented  as  that 
of  a  quaker  beauty  of  the  present  day,  who,  while  she  re- 
tains the  garb  and  costume  of  her  sect,  continues  to  give 
to  its  simplicity,  by  the  choice  of  materials  and  the  mode 
of  disposing  them,  a  certain  air  of  coquettish  attraction 
savouring  but  too  much  of  the  vanities  of  the  world. 

This  worthy  churchman  rode  upon  a  well-fed  ambling 
mule,  whose  furniture  was  highly  decorated,  and  whose 
bridle,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  day,  was  orna- 
mented with  silver  bells.  In  his  seat  he  had  nothing  of 
the  awkwardness  of  the  convent,  but  displayed  the  easy 
and  habitual  grace  of  a  well-trained  horseman.  Indeed,  it 
seemed  that  so  humble  a  conveyance  as  a  mule,  in  how- 
ever good  case,  and  however  well  broken  to  a  -pleasant 
and  accommodating  amble,  was  only  used  by  the  gallant 
Monk  for  travelling  on  the  road.  A  lay  brother,  one  of 
those  who  followed  in  the  train,  had,  for  his  use  on  other 
occasions,  one  of  the  most  handsome  Spanish  jennets  ever 
bred  in  Andalusia,  which  merchants  used  at  that  time  to 
import,  with  great  trouble  and  risk,  for  the  use  of  persons 
of  wealth  and  distinction.  The  saddle  and  housings  of 
this  superb  palfrey  were  covered  by  a  long  foot-cloth, 
which  reached  nearly  to  the  ground,  and  on  which  were 
richly  embroidered  mitres,  crosses,  and  other  ecclesiastical 
emblems.  Another  lay  brother  led  a  sumpter  mule,  loaded 
probably  with  his  superior's  baggage ;  and  two  monks  of 
his  own  order,  of  inferior  station,  rode  together  in  the 
rear,  laughing  and  conversing  with  each  other,  without 
taking  much  notice  of  the  other  members  of  the  cavalcade. 

The  companion  of  the  church  dignitary  was  a  man  past 
forty,  thin,  strong,  tall,  and  muscular ;  an  athletic  figure,  in 
which  long  fatigue  and  constant  exercise  seemed  to  have 
left  none  of  the  softer  part  of  the  human  form,  having  re- 
duced the  whole  to  brawn,  bones,  and  sinews,  which  had 
sustained  a  thousand  toils,  and  were  ready  to  dare  a  thou- 
sand more.  His  head  was  covered  with  a  scarlet  cap, 
faced  with  fur,  of  that  kind  which  the  French  call^mg^&k^ 
from  its  resemblance  to  the  shape  of  an  inverted  mortar. 

I 


IVANHOE.  13 

His  countenance  was  therefore  fully  displayed,  and  its 
expression  was  calculated  to  impress  a  degree  of  awe,  if 
not  of  fear,  upon  strangers.  High  features,  naturally 
strong  and  powerfully  expressive,  had  been  burnt  almost 
into  Negro  blackness  by  constant  exposure  to  the  tropical 
sun,  and  might,  in  their  ordinary  state,  be  said  to  slumber 
after  the  storm  of  passion  had  passed  away ;  but  the  projec- 
tion of  the  veins  of  the  forehead,  the  readiness  with  which 
the  upper  lip  and  its  thick  black  moustaches  quivered  upon 
the  slightest  emotion,  plainly  intimated  that  the  tempest 
might  be  again  and  easily  awakened.  His  keen,  piercing, 
dark  eyes  told  in  every  glance  a  history  of  difficulties  subdued 
and  dangers  dared,  and  seemed  to  challenge  opposition  to 
his  wishes,  for  the  pleasure  of  sweeping  it  from  his  road  by  a 
determined  exertion  of  courage  and  of  will ;  a  deep  scar 
on  his  brow  gave  additional  sternness  to  his  countenance 
and  a  sinister  expression  to  one  of  his  eyes,  which  had 
been  slightly  injured  on  the  same  occasion,  and  of  which 
the  vision,  though  perfect,  was  in  a  slight  and  partial 
degree  distorted. 

The  upper  dress  of  this  personage  resembled  that  of 
his  companion  in  shape,  being  a  long  monastic  mantle  ; 
but  the  colour  being  scarlet,  showed  that  he  did  not  belong 
to  any  of  the  four  regular  orders  of  monks.  On  the  right 
shoulder  of  the  mantle  there  was  cut,  in  white  cloth,  a 
cross  of  a  peculiar  form.  This  upper  robe  concealed  what 
at  first  view  seemed  rather  inconsistent  wi£h  its  form,  a 
shirt,  namely,  of  linked  mail,  with  sleeves  and  gloves  of 
the  same,  curiously  plaited  and  interwoven,  as  flexible  to 
the  body  as  those  which  jire  now  wrought  in  the  stocking- 
-loom  out  of  less  obdurate  materials.  The  fore-part  of  his 
thighs,  where  the  folds  of  his  mantle  permitted  them  to 
be  seen,  were  also  covered  with  linked  mail ;  the  knees 
and  feet  were  defended  by  splints,  or  thin  plates  of  steel, 
ingeniously  jointed  upon  each  other;  and  mail  hose, 
reaching  from  the.  ankle  to  the  knee,  effectually  protected 
the  legs,  and  completed  the  rider's  defensive  armour. 
In  his  girdle  he  wore  a  long  and  double-edged  dagger, 
which  was  the  only  offensive  weapon  about  his  person. 

He  rode,  not  a  mule,  like  his  companion,  but  a  strong 


14  IVANHOE. 

hackney  for  the  road,  to  save  his  gallant  war-horse,  which 
a  squire  led  behind,  fully  accoutred  for  battle,  with  a 
chamfron  or  plaited  head-piece  upon  his  head,  having  a 
short  spike  projecting  from  the  front.  On  one  side  of  the 
saddle  hung  a  short  battle-axe  richly  inlaid  with  Damas- 
cene carving  ;  on  the  other  the  rider's  plumed  head-piece 
and  hood  of  mail,  with  a  long  two-handed  sword,  used  by 
the  chivalry  of  the  period.  A  second  squire  held  aloft 
his  master's  lance,  from  the  extremity  of  which  fluttered 
a  small  banderole,  or  streamer,  bearing  a  cross  of  the  same 
form  with  that  embroidered  upon  his  cloak.  He  also 
carried  his  small  triangular  shield,  broad  enough  at  the 
top  to  protect  the  breast,  and  from  thence  diminishing  to 
a  point.  It  was  covered  with  a  scarlet  cloth,  which  pre- 
vented the  device  from  being  seen. 

These  two  squires  were  followed  by  two  attendants, 
whose  dark  visages,  white  turbans,  and  the  Oriental 
form  of  their  garments  showed  them  to  be  natives  of 
some  distant  Eastern  country.  The  whole  appearance  of 
this  warrior  and  his  retinue  was  wild  and  outlandish; 
the  dress  of  his  squires  was  gorgeous,  and  his  Eastern 
attendants  wore  silver  collars  round  their  throats,  and 
bracelets  of  the  same  metal  upon  their  swarthy  legs  and 
arms,  of  which  the  latter  were  naked  from  the  elbow,  and 
the  former  from  mid-leg  to  ankle, ...  Silk  and  embroidery 
distinguished  their  dresses,  and  marked  the  wealth  and 
importance  of  their  master ;  forming,  at  the  same  time,  a 
striking  contrast  with  th*e  martial  simplicity  of  his  own 
attire.  They  were  armed  with  crooked  sabres,  having 
the  hilt  and  baldric  inlaid  with  gold,  and  matched  with 
Turkish  daggers  of  yet  more  costly  workmanship.  Each 
of  them  bore  at  his  saddle-bow  a  bundle  of  darts  or 
javelins,  about  four  feet  in  length,  having  sharp  steel 
heads,  a  weapon  much  in  use  among  the  Saracens,  and  of 
which  the  memory  is  yet  preserved  in  the  martial  exercise 
called  El  Jerrid,  still  practised  in  the  Eastern  countries. 

The  steeds  of  these  attendants  were  in  appearance  as 
foreign  as  their  riders.  They  were  of  Saracen  origin, 
and  consequently  of  Arabian  descent;  and  their  fine 
slender  limbs,  small  fetlocks,  thin  manes,  and  easy  springy 


IVANHOE.  15 

motion,  formed  a  marked  contrast  with  the  large-jointed 
heavy  horses,  of  which  the  race  was  cultivated  in  Flanders 
and  in  Normandy  for  mounting  the  men-at-arms  of  the 
period  in  all  the  _panoply  of  plate  and  mail,  and  which, 
placed  by  the  side  of  those  Eastern  coursers,  might  have 
passed  for  a  personification  of  substance  and  of  shadow. 

The  singular  appearance  of  this  cavalcade  not  only 
attracted  the  curiosity  of  Wamba,  but  excited  even  that 
of  his  less  volatile  companion.  The  monk  he  instantly /, 
knew  to  be  the  Prior  of  Jorvaulx  Abbey,  well  known  for 
many  miles  around  as  a  lover  of  the  chase,  of  the  banquet, 
and,  if  fame  did  him  not  wrong,  of  other  worldly  pleas- 
ures still  more  inconsistent  with  his  monastic  vows. 

Yet  so  loose  were  the  ideas  of  the  times  respecting 
the  conduct  of  the  clergy,  whether  secular  or  regular, 
that  the  Prior  Aymer  maintained  a  fair  character  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  his  abbey.  His  free  andjovial  temper, 
and  the  readiness  with  which  he  granted  absolution  from 
all  ordinary  delinquencies,  rendered  him  a  favourite 
among  the  nobility  and  principal  gentry,  to  several  of 
whom  he  was  allied  by  birth,  being  of  a  distinguished 
Norman  family.  The  ladies,  in  particular,  were  not  dis- 
posed to  scan  too  nicely  the  morals  of  a  man  who  was 
a  professed  admirer  of  their  sex,  and  who  possessed  many 
means  of  dispelling  the  ennui  which  was  too  apt  to 
intrude  upon  the  halls  and  bowers  of  an  ancient  feudal 
castle.  The  Prior  mingled  in  the  sports  of  the  field  with 
more  than  due  eagerness,  and  was  allowed  to  possess  the 
best-trained  hawks  and  the  fleetest  greyhounds  in  the 
North  Hiding  —  circumstances  which  strongly  recom- 
mended him  to  the  youthful  gentry.  With  the  old  he 
had  another  part  to  play,  which,  when  needful,  he  could 
sustain  with  great  .decorum.  His  knowledge  of  books, 
however  superficial,  was  sufficient  to  impress  upon  their 
ignorance  respect  for  his  supposed  learning ;  and  the 
gravity  of  his  deportment  and  language,  with  the  high 
tone  which  he  exerted  in  setting  forth  the  authority  of 
the  church  and  of  the  priesthood,  impressed  them  no  less 
with  an  opinion  of  his  sanctity.  Even  the  common 
people,  the  severest  critics  of  the  conduct  of  their  betters, 


16  1VANH0E. 


J 


I 


had  commiseration  with  the  follies  of  Prior  Aymer.  He 
was  generous ;  and  charity,  as  it  is  well  known,  covereth 
a  multitude  of  sins,  in  another  sense  than  that  in  which 
it  is  said  to  do  so  in  Scripture.  The  revenues  of  the 
monastery,  of  which  a  large  part  was  at  his  disposal,  while 
they  gave  him  the  means  of  supplying  his  own  very  con- 
siderable expenses,  afforded  also  those  largesses  which 
he  bestowed  among  the  peasantry,  and  with  which  he 
frequently  relieved  the  distresses  of  the  oppressed.  If 
Prior  Aymer  rode  hard  in  the  chase,  or  remained  long 
at  the  banquet,  if  Prior  Aymer  was  seen  at  the  early 
peep  of  dawn  to  enter  the  postern  of  the  abbey,  as  he  glided 
home  from  some  rendezvous  which  had  occupied  the 
hours  of  darkness,  men  only  shrugged  up  their  shoulders, 
and  reconciled  themselves  to  his  irregularities  by  recol- 
lecting that  the  same  were  practised  by  many  of  his 
brethren  who  had  no  redeeming  qualities  whatsoever  to 
atone  for  them.  Prior  Aymer,  therefore,  and  his  charac- 
ter, were  well  known  to  our  Saxon  serfs,  who  made  their 
rude  obeisance,  and  received  his  "  Bejiedicite,  mes  Jils" 
in  return. 

But  the  singular  appearance  of  his  companion  and  his 
attendants  arrested  their  attention  and  excited  their 
wonder,  and  they  could  scarcely  attend  to  the  Prior  of 
Jorvaulx's  question,  when  he  demanded  if  they  knew 
of  any  place  of  harbourage  in  the  vicinity ;  so  much 
were  they  surprised  at  the  half-monastic,  half-military 
appearance  of  the  swarthy  stranger,  and  at  the  uncouth 
dress  and  arms  of  his  Eastern  attendants.  It  is  probable, 
too,  that  the  language  in  which  the  benediction  was  con- 
ferred, and  the  information  asked,  sounded  ungracious, 
though  not  probably  unintelligible,  in  the  ears  of  the 
Saxon  peasants. 

"  I  asked  you,  my  children,"  said  the  Prior,  raising  his 
voice,  and  using  the  lingua  Franca,  or  mixed  language,  in 
which  the  Norman  and  Saxon  races  conversed  with  each 
other,  "  if  there  be  in  this  neighbourhood  any  good  man 
who,  for  the  love  of  God  and  devotion  to  Mother  Church, 
will  give  two  of  her  humblest  servants,  with  their  train, 
a  night's  hospitality  and  refreshment  ?  " 


IVANHOE.  17 

This  he  spoke  with  a  tone  of  conscious  importance, 
which  formed  a  strong  contrast  to  the  modest  terms 
which  he  thought  it  proper  to  employ. 

"  Two  of  the  humblest  servants  of  Mother  Church ! " 
repeated  Wamba  to  himself,  but,  fool  as  he  was,  taking 
care  not  to  make  his  observation  audible  ;  "  I  should  like 
to  see  her  seneschals,  her  chief  butlers,  and  her  other 
principal  domestics ! " 

After  this  internal  commentary  on  the  Prior's  speech, 
he  raised  his  eyes  and  replied  to  the  question  which  had 
been  put. 

"  If  the  reverend  fathers,"  he  said,  "  loved  good  cheer 
and  soft  lodging,  few  miles  of  riding  would  carry  them 
to  the  Priory  of  Brinxworth,  where  their  quality  could 
not  but  secure  them  the  most  honourable  reception ;  or  if 
they  preferred  spending  a  penitential  evening,  they  might 
turn  down  yonder  wild  glade,  which  would  bring  them  to 
the  hermitage  of  Copmanhurst,  where  a  pious  anchoret 
would  make  them  sharers  for  the  night  of  the  shelter  of 
his  roof  and  the  benefit  of  his  prayers." 

The  Prior  shook  his  head  at  both  proposals. 

"  Mine  honest  friend,"  said  he,  "  if  the  jangling  of  thy 
bells  had  not  dizzied  thine  understanding,  thou  mightst 
know  Clericas  clericum  non  decimat;  that  is  to  say,  we 
churchmen  do  not  exhaust  each  other's  hospitality,  but 
rather  require  that  of  the  laity,  giving  them  thus  an 
opportunity  to  serve  God  in  honouring  and  relieving  His 
appointed  servants." 

"  It  is  true,"  replied  Wamba,  "  that  I,  being  but  an  ass, 
am,  nevertheless,  honoured  to  bear  the  bells  as  well  as 
your  reverence's  mule ;  notwithstanding,  I  did  conceive 
that  the  charity  of  Mother  Church  and  her  servants  might 
be  said,  with  other  charity,  to  begin  at  home." 

"  A  truce  to  thine  insolence,  fellow,"  said  the  armed 
rider,  breaking  in  on  his  prattle  with  a  high  and  stern 

voice,  "  and  tell  us,  if  thou  canst^the  road  to How 

call'd  you  your  Franklin,  Prior  Aymer  ?  " 

"  Cedric,"  answered  the  Prior ;  "  Cedric  the  Saxon.  — 
Tell  me,  good  fellow,  are  we  near  his  dwelling,  and  can 
you  show  us  the  road  ?  " 
c 


18  IVANHOE. 

"The  road  will  be  uneasy  to  find,"  answered  Gurth, 
who  broke  silence  for  the  first  time,  "  and  the  family  of 
Cedric  retire  early  to  rest." 

"  Tush,  tell  not  me,  fellow ! "  said  the  military  rider ; 
"'tis  easy  for  them  to  arise  and  supply  the  wants  of 
travellers  such  as  we  are,  who  will  not_stoop  to  beg  the 
hospitality  which  we  have  a  right  to  command." 

"  I  know  not,"  said  Gurth,  sullenly,  "  if  I  should  show 
the  way  to  my  master's  house  to  those  who  demand  as  a 
right  the  shelter  which  most  are  fain  to  ask  as  a  favour." 

"Do  you  dispute  with  me,  slave!"  said  the  soldier; 
and,  setting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  caused  him  to  make  a 
demi-volte  across  the  path,  raising  at  the  same  time  the 
riding  rod  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  with  a  purpose  of 
chastising  what  he  considered  as  the  insolence  of  the 
peasant.  -fi^ 

Gurth  darted  at  him  a  savage  and  revengeful  scowl. 
and  with  a  fierce  yet  hesitating  motion  laid  his  hand  on 
the  haft  of  his  knife  ;  but  the  interference  of  Prior  Aymer, 
who  pushed  his  mule  betwixt  his  companion  and  the 
swineherd,  prevented  the  meditated  violence. 

"Nay,  by  St.  Mary,  brother  Brian,  you  must  not  think 
you  are  now  in  Palestine,  predominating  over  heathen 
Turks  and  infidel  Saracens  ;  we  islanders  love  not  blows, 
save  those  of  Holy  Church,  who  chasteneth  whom  she 
loveth.  —  Tell  me,  good  fellow,"  said  he  to  Wamba,  and 
seconded  his  speech  by  a  small  piece  of  silver  coin,  "  the 
way  to  Cedric  the  Saxon's ;  you  cannot  be  ignorant  of  it, 
and  it  is  your  duty  to  direct  the  wanderer  even  when  his 
character  is  less  sanctified  than  ours." 

"  In  truth,  venerable  father,"  answered  the  Jester,  "  the 
Saracen  head  of  your  right  reverend  companion  has  fright- 
ened out  of  mine  the  way  home ;  I  am  not  sure  I  shall 
get  there  to-night  myself." 

"Tush,"  said  the  Abbot,  "thou  canst  tell  us  if  thou 
wilt.  This  reverend  brother  has  been  all  his  life  en- 
gaged in  fighting  among  the  Saracens  for  the  recovery 
of  the  Holy  Sepulchre;  he  is  of  the  order  of  Knights 
Templars,  whom  you  may  have  heard  of;  he  is  half  a 
monk,  half  a  soldier." 


IVAN-HOE.  19 

"If  he  is  but  half  a  monk/'  said  the  Jester,  "he 
should  not  be  wholly  unreasonable  with  those  whom  he 
meets  upon  the  road,  even  if  they  should  be  in  no  hurry 
to  answer  questions  that  no  way  concern  them." 

"  I  forgive  thy  wit,"  replied  the  Abbot,  "  on  condition 
thou  wilt  show  me  the  way  to  Cedrie's  mansion." 

"  Well,  then,"  answered  Wamba,  "your  reverences  must 
hold  on  this  path  till  you  come  to  a  sunken  cross,  of  which 
scarce  a_cubit's  length  remains  above  ground ;  then  take 
the  path  to  the  left,  for  there  are  four  which  meet  at 
Sunken  Cross,  and  I  trust  your  reverences  will  obtain 
shelter  before  the  storm  comes  on." 

The  Abbot  thanked  his  sage  adviser;  and  the  caval- 
cade, setting  spurs  to  their  horses,  rode  on  as  men  do 
who  wish  to  reach  their  inn  before  the  bursting  of  a 
night-storm. 

As  their  horses'  hoofs  died  away,  Gurth  said  to  his 
companion,  "  If  they  follow  thy  wise  direction,  the  rev- 
erend fathers  will  hardly  reach  Rotherwood  this  night." 

"  No,"  said  the  Jester,  grinning,  "  but  they  may  reach 
Sheffield  if  they  have  good  luck,  and  that  is  as  fit  a  place 
for  them.  I  am  not  so  bad  a  woodsman  as  to  show  the 
dog  where  the  deer  lies,  if  I  have  no  mind  he  should 
chase  him." 

"  Thou  art  right,"  said  Gurth  ;  "  it  were  ill  that  Aymer 
saw  the  Lady  Rowena;  and  it  were  worse,  it  may  be, 
for  Cedric  to  quarrel,  as  is  most  likely  he  would,  with 
this  military  monk.  But,  like  good  servants,  let  us  hear 
and  see,  and  say  nothing." 

We  return  to  the  riders,  who  had  soon  left  the  bonds- 
men far  behind  them,  and  who  maintained  the  following 
conversation  in  the  Norman-French  language,  usually 
employed  by  the  superior  classes,  with  the  exception  of 
the  few  who  were  still  inclined  to  boast  their  Saxon 
descent : 

"  What  mean  these  fellows  by  their  capricious  inso- 
lence ?  "  said  the  Templar  to  the  Cistercian,  "  and  why 
did  you  prevent  me  from  chastising  it  ?  " 

"  Marry,  brother  Brian,"  replied  the  Prior,  "  touching 
the  one  of  them,  it  were  hard  for  me  to  render  a  reason 


20  IV AN  HOE. 

for  a  fool  speaking  according  to  his  folly ;  and  the  other 
churl  is  of  that  savage,  fierce,  intractable  race,  some  of 
whom,  as  I  have  often  told  you,  are  still  to  be  found 
among  the  descendants  of  the  conquered  Saxons,  and 
whose  supreme  pleasure  it  is  to  testify,  by  all  means  in 
their  power,  their  aversion  to  their  conquerors." 

"  I  would  soon  have  beat  him  into  courtesy,"  observed 
Brian ;  "  I  am  accustomed  to  deal  with  such  spirits. 
Our  Turkish  captives  are  as  fierce  and  intractable  as  Odin 
himself  could  have  been ;  yet  two  months  in  my  house- 
hold, under  the  management  of  my  master  of  the  slaves, 
has  made  them  humble,  submissive,  serviceable,  and  ob- 
servant of  your  will.  Marry,  sir,  you  must  beware  of 
the  poison  and  the  dagger ;  for  they  use  either  with  free 
will  when  you  give  them  the  slightest  opportunity." 

"  Ay,  but,"  answered  Prior  Aymer,  "  every  land  has 
its  own  manners  and  fashions ;  and,  besides  that  beating 
this  fellow  could  procur^  us  no  information  respecting 
the  road  to  Cedric's  house,  it  would  have  been  sure  to 
have  established  a  quarrel  betwixt  you  and  him  had  we 
found  our  way  thither.  Remember  what  I  told  you; 
this  wealthy  Franklin  is  proud,  fierce,  jealous,  and  irri- 
table, a  withstander  of  the  nobility,  and  even  of  his 
neighbours,  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf  and  Philip  Mal- 
voisin,  who  are  no  babes  to  strive  with.  He  stands  up 
so  sternly  for  the  privileges  of  his  race,  and  is  so  proud 
of  his  uninterrupted  descent  from  Hereward,  a  renowned 
champion  of  the  Heptarchy,  that  he  is  universally  called 
Cedric  the  Saxon ;  and  makes  a  boast  of  his  belonging 
to  a  people  from  whom  many  others  endeavour  to  hide 
their  descent,  lest  they  should  encounter  a  share  of  the 
fx'   woe  victis,  or  severities  imposed  upon  the  vanquished." 

"  Prior  Aymer,"  said  the  Templar,  "you  are  a  man  of 
gallantry,  learned  in  the  study  of  beauty,  and  as  expert 
as  a  troubadour  in  all  matters  concerning  the  arrets  of 
love ;  but  I  shall  expect  much  beauty  in  this  celebrated 
Rowena,  to  counter-balance  the  self-denial  and  for- 
bearance which  I  must  exert  if  I  am  to  court  the  favour 
of  such  a  seditious  churl  as  you  have  described  her 
father  Cedric."  f*/l 


IVANHOE.  21 

"  Cedric  is  not  her  father."  replied  the  Prior,  "  and  is  p 
but  of  remote  relation ;  ^shg  is  descended  from  higher  [ 
blood  than  even  he  pretends  to,  and  is  bnt  distantly  con- 
nected with  him  by  birth.  Her  guardian,  however,  he 
is,  self-constituted  as  I  believe ;  but  his  ward  is  as  dear 
to  him  as  if  she  were  his  own  child.  Of  her  beauty  you 
shall  soon  be  judge  ;  and  if  the  purity  of  her  complexion, 
and  the  majestic  yet  soft  expression  of  a  mild  blue  eye, 
do  not  chase  from  your  memory  the  black -tressed  girls 
of  Palestine,  ay,  or  the  houris  of  old  Mahound's  paradise, 
I  am  an  infidel  and  no  true  son  of  the  church. %it/\y  ' 

"  Should  your  boasted  beauty,"  said  the  Templar,  "  be 
weighed  in  the  balance  and  found  wanting,  you  know 
our  wager  ?  " 

"My  gold  collar,"  answered  the  Prior,  "against  ten 
butts  of  Chian  wine ;  —  they  are  mine  as  securely  as  if 
they  were  already  in  the  convent  vaults,  under  the  key 
of  old  Dennis,  the  cellarer." 

"And  I  am  myself  to  be  judge,"  said  the  Templar, 
"  and  I  am  only  to  be  convicted  on  my  own  admission 
that  I  have  seen  no  maiden  so  beautiful  since  Pentecost 
was  a  twelve-month.  Ran  it  not  so?  —  Prior,  your  collar 
is  in  danger ;  I  will  wear  it  over  my  gorget  in  the  lists 
of  Ashby-de-la-Zouche." 

"Win  it  fairly,"  said  the  Prior,  "and  wear  it  as  ye 
will ;  I  will  trust  your  giving  true  response,  on  your 
word  as  a  knight  and  as  a  churchman.  Yet,  brother, 
take  my  advice,  and  file  your  tongue  to  a  little  more 
courtesy  than  your  habits  of  predominating  over  infidel 
captives  and  Eastern  bondsmen  have  accustomed  you. 
Cedric  the  Saxon,  if  offended  —  and  he  is  no  way  slack 
in  taking  offence — is  a  man  who,  without  respect  to  your 
knighthood,  my  high  office,  or  the  sanctity  of  either,  would 
clear  his  house  of  us,  and  send  us  to  lodge  with  the  larks, 
though  the  hour  were  midnight.  And  be  careful  how 
you  look  on  Eowena,  whom  he  cherishes  with  the  most 
jealous  care ;  an  he  take  the  least  alarm  in  that  quarter 
we  are  but  lost  men.  It  is  said  he  banished  his  only 
son  from  his  family  for  lifting  his  eyes  in  the  way  of 
affection  towards  this  beauty,  who  may  be  worshipped, 


22  IVANHOE. 

it  seems,  at  a  distance,  but  is  not  to  be  approached  with 
other  thoughts  than  such  as  we  bring  to  the  shrine  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin." 

"  Well,  vou  have  said  enough,"  answered  the  Templar ; 
"  I  will  lor  a  night  put  on  the  needful  restraint,  and 
deport  me  as  meekly  as  a  maiden;  but  as  for  the  fear 
of  his  expelling  us  by  violence,  myself  and  squires, 
with  Hamet  and  Abdalla,  will  warrant  you  against  that 
disgrace.  Doubt  not  that  we  shall  be  strong  enough 
to  make  good  our  quarters." 

"  We  must  not  let  it  come  so  far,"  answered  the  Prior. 
"  But  here  is  the  clown's  sunken  cross,  and  the  night  is 
so  dark  that  we  can  hardly  see  which  of  the  roads  we 
are  to  follow.     He  bid  us  turn,  I  think,  to  the  left." 

"  To  the  right,"  said  Brian,  "  to  the  best  of  my  remem- 
brance." 

"To  the  left  —  certainly  the  left;  I  remember  his 
pointing  with  his  wooden  sword." 

"  Ay,  but  he  held  his  sword  in  his  left  hand,  and  so 
pointed  across  his  body  with  it,"  said  the  Templar. 
«  Each  maintained  his  opinion  with  sufficient  obstinacy, 
a  is  usual  in  all  such  cases ;  the  attendants  were  appealed 
tM  but  they  had  not  been  near  enough  to  hear  Wamba's 
dii  actions. 

.Vo  length  Brian  remarked,  what  had  at  first  escaped 
him  in  the  twilight :  "  Here  is  some  one  either  asleep  or 
lying  dead  at  the  foot  of  this  cross  —  Hugo,  stir  him  with 
the  butt-end  of  thy  lance." 

This  was  no  sooner  done  than  the  figure  arose,  exclaim- 
ing in  good  French,  "  Whosoever  thou  art,  it  is  discour- 
teous in  you  to  disturb  my  thoughts." 

"  We  did  but  wish  to  ask  you,"'  said  the  Prior,  "  the 
road  to  Rotherwood,  the  abode  of  Cedric  the  Saxon." 

"I  myself  am  bound  thither,"  replied  the  stranger; 
"and  if  I  had  a  horse  I  would  be  your  guide,  for  the 
way  is  somewhat  intricate,  though  perfectly  well  known 
to  me." 

"  Thou  shalt  have  both  thanks  and  reward,  my  friend," 
said  the  Prior,  "  if  thou  wilt  bring  us  to  Cedric's  in 
safety." 


IVANHOE.  23 

And  he  caused  one  of  his  attendants  to  mount  his  own 
led  horse,  and  give  that  upon  which  he  had  hitherto  rid- 
den to  the  stranger  who  was  to  serve  for  a  guide. 

Their  conductor  pursued  an  opposite  road  from  that 
which  Wamba  had  recommended  for  the  purpose  of  mis- 
leading them.  The  path  soon  led  deeper  into  the  wood- 
land, and  crossed  more  than  one  brook,  the  approach  to 
which  was  rendered  perilous  by  the  marshes  through 
which  it  flowed;  but  the  stranger  seemed  to  know,  as 
if  by  instinct,  the  soundest  ground  and  the  safest  points 
of  passage ;  and,  by  dint  of  caution  and  attention,  brought 
the  party  safely  into  a  wider  avenue  than  any  they  had 
yet  seen ;  and,  pointing  to  a  large,  low,  irregular  building 
at  the  upper  extremity,  he  said  to  the  Prior,  "  Fonder  is 
Rotherwood,  the  dwelling  of  Cedric  the  Saxon." 

This  was  a  joyful  intimation  to  Aymer,  whose  nerves 
were  none  of  the  strongest,  and  who  had  suffered  such 
agitation  and  alarm  in  the  course  of  passing  through  the 
—  •■  dangerous  bogs,  that  he  had  not  yet  had  the  curiosity  to 
ask  his  guide  a  single  question.  Finding  himself  now  at 
his  ease  and  near  shelter,  his  curiosity  began  to  awake, 
and  he  demanded  of  the  guide  who  and  what  he  was. 

"  A  Palmer,  just  returned  from  the  Holy  Land,"      is 

the  answer.  *r-*\l/- 

"  You  had  better  have  tarried  there  to  fight  I  ■  the 
recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,"  said  the  Tempi.' 

"  True,  Reverend  Sir  Knight,"  answered  the  aimer, 
to  whom  the  appearance  of  the  Templar  seemed  perfectly 
familiar ;  "  but  when  those  who  are  under  oath  to  recover 
the  holy  city  are  found  travelling  at  such  a  distance  from 
the  scene  of  their  duties,  can  you  wonder  that  a  peaceful 
peasant  like  me  should  decline  the  task  which  they  have 
abandoned  ?  " 

The  Templar  would  have  made  an  angry  reply,  but 
was  interrupted  by  the  Prior,  who  again  expressed  his 
astonishment  that  their  guide,  after  such  long  absence, 
should  be  so  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  passes  of  the 
forest. 

"  I  was  born  a  native  of  these  parts,"  answered  their 
guide,  and  as  he  made  the  reply  they  stood  before  the 


24  IVANHOE. 

mansion  of  Cedric  —  a  low,  irregular  building,  containing 
several  courtyards  or  inclosures,  extending  over  a  con- 
siderable space  of  ground,  and  which,  though  its  size 
f  [argued  the  inhabitant  to  be  a  person  of  wealth,  differed 
entirely  from  the  tall,  turreted,  and  castellated  buildings 
in  which  the  Norman  nobility  resided,  and  which  had 
become  the  universal  style  of  architecture  throughout 
England. 

E-otherwood  was  not,  however,  without  defences  ;  no 
habitation,  in  that  disturbed  period,  could  have  been  so, 
without  the  risk  of  being  plundered  and  burnt  before  the 
next  morning.  A  deep  fosse,  or  ditch,  was  drawn  round 
v  \he  whole  building,  and  filled  with  water  from  a  neigh- 
bouring stream.  A  double  stockade,  or  palisade,  composed 
of  pointed  beams,  which  the  adjacent  forest  supplied, 
defended  the  outer  and  inner  bank  of  the  trench.  There 
was  an  entrance  from  the  west  through  the  outer  stockade, 
which  communicated  by  a  drawbridge  with  a  similar  open- 
ing in  the  interior  defences.  "  Some  precautions  had  been 
taken  to  place  those  entrances  under  the  protection  of 
projecting  angles,  by  which  they  might  be  flanked  in  case 
of  need  by  archers  or  slingers. 

Before  this  entrance  the  Templar  wound  his  horn 
loudly  ;  for  the  rain,  which  had  long  threatened,  began 
now  to  descend  with  great  violence. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Then  (sad  relief  !)  from  the  bleak  coast  that  hears 
The  German  Ocean  roar,  deep-hlooming,  strong, 
And  yellow-hair' d,  the  blue-eyed  Saxon  came. 

Thomson's  Liberty. 

In  a  hall,  the  height  of  which  was  greatly  dispropor- 
tioned  to  its  extreme  length  and  width,  a  long  oaken 
table  formed  of  planks  rough-hewn  from  the  forest,  and 
which  had  scarcely  received  any  polish,  stood  ready  pre- 
pared for  the  evening  meal  of  Cedric  the  Saxon.  The 
roof,  composed  of  Yearns   and   rafters,   had   nothing  to 


IVANHOE.  25 

divide  the  apartment  from  the  sky  excepting  the  planking 
and  thatch ;  there  was  a  huge  fireplace  at  either  end  of 
the  hall,  but,  as  the  chimneys  were  constructed  in  a  very 
clumsy  manner,  at  least  as  much  of  the  smoke  found  its 
way  into  the  apartment  as  escaped  by  the  proper  vent. 
The  constant  vapour  which  this  occasioned  had  polished 
the  rafters  and  beams  of  the  low-browed  hall,  by  encrust- 
ing them  with  a  black  varnish  of  soot.  On  the  sides  of 
the  apartment  hung  implements  of  war  and  of  the  chase, 
and  there  were  at  each  corner  folding  doors,  which  gave 
access  to  other  parts  of  the  extensive  building. 

The  other  appointments  of  the  mansion  partook  of  the 
rude  simplicity  of  the  Saxon  period,  which  Cedric  piqued 
himself  upon  maintaining.  The  floor  was  composed  of 
earth  mixed  with  lime,  trodden  into  a  hard  substance, 
such  as  is  often  employed  in  flooring  our  modern  barns. 
For  about  one  quarter  of  the  length  of  the  apartment  the 
floor  was  raised  by  a  step,  and  this  space,  which  was 
called  the  dais,  was  occupied  only  by  the  principal  mem- 
bers of  the  family  and  visitors  of  distinction.  For  this 
purpose,  a  table  richly  covered  with  scarlet  cloth  was 
placed  transversely  across  the  platform,  from  the  middle 
of  which  ran  the  longer  and  lower  board,  at  which  the 
domestics  and  inferior  persons  fed,  down  towards  the 
bottom  of  the  hall.  The  whole  resembled  the  form  of 
the  letter  X,  or  some  of  those  ancient  dinner-tables  which, 
arranged  on  the  same  principles,  may  be  still  seen  in  the 
antique  Colleges  of  Oxford  or  Cambridge.  Massive  chairs 
«k  and  settles  of  carved  oak  were  placed  upon  the  dais,  and 
'  over  these  seats  and  the  more  elevated  table  was  fastened 
"  a  canopy^pf  cloth,  which  served  in  some  degree  to  protect  -> 
the  dignitaries  who  occupied  that  distinguished  station 
from  the  weather,  and  especially  from  the  rain,  which  in 
some  places  found  its  way  through  the  ill-constructed 
roof. 

The  walls  of  this  upper  end  of  the  hall,  as  far  as  the 
dais  extended,  were  covered  with  hangings  or  curtains, 
and  upon  the  floor  there  was  a  carpet,  both  of  which  were 
adorned  with  some  attempts  at  tapestry  or  embroidery, 
executed  with  brilliant,  or  rather  gaudy,  colouring.    Over 


26  IVANHOE. 

the  lower  range  of  table,  the  roof,  as  we  noticed,  had  no 
covering ;  the  rough  plastered  walls  were  left  bare,  and 
the  rude  earthen  floor  was  uncarpeted ;  the  board  was 
uncovered  by  a  cloth,  and  rude  massive  benches  supplied 
the  place  of  chairs. 

In  the  centre  of  the  upper  table  were  placed  two  chairs 
more  elevated  than  the  rest,  for  the  master  and  mistress 
of  the  family,  who  presided  over  the  scene  of  hospitality, 
and  from  doing  so  derived  their  Saxon  title  of  honour, 
which  signifies  "  the  Dividers  of  Bread." 

To  each  of  these  chairs  was  added  a  footstool,  curiously 
carved  and  inlaid  with  ivory,  which  mark  of  distinction 
was  peculiar  to  them.  One  of  tnese  seats  was  at  present 
occupied  by  Cedric  the  Saxon,  who,  though  but  in  rank  a 
thane,  or,  as  the  Normans  called  him,  a  Franklin,  felt  at 
the  delay  of  his  evening  meal  an  irritable  impatience 
which  misrht  have  become  an  alderman,  whether  of 
ancient  or  of   modern  times. 

It  appeared,  indeed,  from  the  countenance  of  this  pro- 
prietor, that  he  was  of  a  frank,  but  hasty  and  choleric,, 
temper.  He  was  not  above  the  middle  stature,  but  broad- 
shouldered,  long-armed,  and  powerfully  made,  like  one 
accustomed  to  endure  the  fatigue  of  war  or  of  the  chase ; 
his  face  was  broad,  with  large  blue  eyes,  open  and  frank 
features,  fine  teeth,  and  a  well-formed  head,  altogether 
expressive  of  that  sort  of  good  humour  which  often  lodges 
with  a  sudden  and  hasty  temper.  Pride  and  jealousy 
there  was  in  his  eye,  for  his  life  had  been  spent  in  assert- 
ing rights  which  were  constantly  liable  to  invasion  ;  and 
the  prompt,  fiery,  and  resolute  disposition  of  the  man  had 
,  been  kept  constantly  upon  the_alert  by  the  circumstances 
of  his  situation.  His  long  yellow  hair  was  equally  di- 
vided on  the  top  of  his  head  and  upon  his  brow,  and 
combed  down  on  each  side  to  the  length  of  his  shoulders ; 
it  had  but  little  tendency  to  grey,  although  Cedric  was 
approaching  to  his  sixtieth  year. 

His  dress  was  a  tunic  of  forest  green,  furred  at  the 
throat  and  cuffs  with  what  was  called  minever  —  a  kind 
of  fur  inferior  in  quality  to  ermine,  and  formed,  it  is 
believed,  of  the  skin  of  the  grey  squirrel.     This  doublet 


IVANHOE.  A  ,     27 

iiimg  unbuttoned  over  a  close  dress  of  scarlet  which  sate 
tight  to  his  body ;  he  had  breeches  of  the  same,  but  they 
did  not  reach  below  the  lower  part  of  the  thigh,  leaving 
the  knee  exposed.  His  feet  had  sandals  of  the  same 
fashion  with  the  peasants,  but  of  finer  materials,  and 
secured  in  the  front  with  golden  clasps.  He  had  brace- 
lets of  gold  upon  his  arms,  and  a  broad  collar  of  the  same '  i 
precious  metal  around  his  neck.  About  his  waist  he 
wore  a  richly  studded  belt,  in  which  was  stuck  a  short, 
straight,  two-edged  sword,  with  a  sharp  point,  so  disposed 
as  to  hang  almost  perpendicularly  by  his  side.  Behind 
his  seat  was  hung  a  scarlet  cloth  cloak  lined  with  fur, 
and  a  cap  of  the  same  materials,  richly  embroidered,  which 
completed  the  dress  of  the  opulent  landholder  when  he 
chose  to  go  forth.  A  short  boar-spear,  with  a  broad  and 
bright  steel  head,  also  reclined  against  the  back  of  his 
chair,  which  served  him,  when  he  walked  abroad,  for  the 
purpose  of  a  staff  or  of  a  weapon,  as  chance  might  require. 
Several  domestics,  whose  dress  held  various  propor- 
tions between  the  richness  of  their  master's  and  the  coarse 
and  simple  attire  of  Gurth,  the  swineherd,  watched  the 
looks  and  waited  the  commands  of  the  Saxon  dignitary. 
Two  or  three  servants  of  a  superior  order  stood  behind 
their  master  upon  the  dais ;  the  rest  occupied  the  lower 
part  of  the  hall.  Other  attendants  there  were  of  a  differ- 
ent description :  two  or  three  large  and  shaggy  grey- 
hounds, such  as  were  then  employed  in  hunting  the  stag 
and  wolf ;  as  many  slow-hounds,  of  a  large  bony  breed, 
with  thick  necks,  large  heads,  and  long  ears ;  and  one  or 
two  of  the  smaller  dogs,  now  called  terriers,  which  waited 
with  impatience  the  arrival  of  the  supper ;  but,  with  the 
sagacious  knowledge  of  physiognomy  peculiar  to  their 
race,  forbore  to  intrude  upon  the  moody  silence  of  their 
master,  apprehensive  probably  of  a  small  white  truncheon 
which  lay  by  Cedric's  trencher,  for  the  purpose  of  re- 
pelling the  advances  of  his  four-legged  dependants.  One 
^grisly  old  wolf-dog  alone,  with  the  liberty  of  an  indulged 
favourite,  had  planted  himself  close  by  the  chair  of  state, 
and  occasionally  ventured  to  solicit  notice  by  putting  his 
large  hairy  head  upon   his   master's   knee,   or   pushing 


28  IVANHOE. 

his  nose  into  his  hand.  Even  he  was  repelled  by  the 
stern  command,  "  Down,  Balder,  down !  I  am  not  in  the 
humour  for  foolery." 

In  fact,  Cedric,  as  we  have  observed,  was  in  no  very 
placid  state  of  mind.  The  Lady  Rowena,  who  had  been 
absent  to  attend  an  evening  mass  at  a  distant  church,  had 
but  just  returned,  and  was  changing  her  garments,  which 
had  been  wetted  by  the  storm.  There  were  as  yet  no 
tidings  of  G-urth  and  his  charge,  which  should  long  since 
have  been  driven  home  from  the  forest ;  and  such  was  the 
insecurity  of  the  period  as  to  render  it  probable  that  the 
delay  might  be  explained  by  some  depredation  of  the  out-  >j 
laws,  with  whom  the  adjacent  forest  abounded,  or  by  the 
violence  of  some  neighbouring  baron,  whose  consciousness 
of  strength  made  him  equally  negligent  of  the  laws  of 
property.  The  matter  was  of  consequence,  for  great 
part  of  the  domestic  wealth  of  the  Saxon  proprietors 
consisted  in  numerous  herds  of  swine,  especially  in  forest 
land,  where  those  animals  easily  found  their  food. 

Besides  these  subjects  of  anxiety,  the  Saxon  thane  was 
impatient  for  the  presence  of  his  favourite  clown,  Wamba, 
whose  jests,  such  as  they  were,  served  for  a  sort  of  season- 
ing to  his  evening  meal,  and  to  the  deep  draughts  of  ale  ^ 
and  wine  with  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  accompany- 
ing it.  Add  to  all  this,  Cedric  had  fasted  since  noon,  and 
his  usual  supper  hour  was  long  past,  a  cause  of  irritation 
common  to  country  squires,  both  in  ancient  and  modern 
times.  His  displeasure  was  expressed  in  broken  sentences, 
partly  muttered  to  himself,  partly  addressed  to  the  domes- 
tics who  stood  around  ;  and  particularly  to  his  cupbearer, 
who  offered  him  from  time  to  time,  as  a  sedative,  a  sil- 
ver goblet  filled  with  wine  — "  Why  tarries  the  Lady 
Rowena  ?  " 

"  She  is  but  changing  her  head-gear/'  replied  a  female 
attendant,  with  as  much  confidence  as  the  favourite  lady's 
maid  usually  answers  the  master  of  a  modern  family ; 
"you  would  not  wish  her  to  sit  down  to  the  banquet  in 
her  hood  and  kirtle  ?  and  no  lady  within  the  shire  can 
be  quicker  in  arraying  herself  than  my  mistress." 

This  undeniable  argument  produced  a  sort  of  acqui- 


IVANHOE.  29 

escent  "  Umph ! "  on  the  part  of  the   Saxon,   with  the 
addition,  "  I  wish  her  devotion  may  choose  fair  weather 
for  the  next  visit  to  St.  John's  Kirk.  —  But  what,  in  the  ! 
name  of  ten  devils,"  continued  he,  turning  to  the  cup- 
bearer, and  raising  his  voice,  as  if  happy  to  have  found  adArwJ- 
channel  into  which  he  might  divert  his  indignation  with-  trrj 
out  fear  of  control  — "  what,  in  the  name  of  ten  devils, 
keeps  Gurth  so  long  a-field  ?     I  suppose  we  shall  have  an 
evil  account  of  the  herd ;  he  was  wont  to  be  a  faithful 
and  cautious  drudge,  and  I  had  destined  him  for  some- 
thing better ;    perchance  I  might  even  have  made  him 
one  of  my  warders." 

Oswald,  the  cupbearer,  modestly  suggested,  "  That  it 
was  scarce  an  hour  since  the  tolling  of  the  curfew  "  —  an 
ill-chosen  apology,  since  it  turned  upon  a  topic  so  harsh 
to  Saxon  ears. 

"  The  foul  fiend,"  exclaimed  Cedric,  "  take  the  curfew- 
bell,  and  the  tyrannical  bastard  by  whom  it  was  devised, 
and  the  heartless  slave  who  names  it  with  a  Saxon  tongue 
to  a  Saxon  ear  !  The  curfew !  "  he  added,  pausing  —  "  ay, 
the  curfew,  which  compels  true  men  to  extinguish  their 
lights,  that  thieves  and  robbers  may  work  their  deeds  in 
darkness  !  Ay,  the  curfew  !  Reginald  Front-de-Bceuf 
and  Philip  de  Malvoisin  know  the  use  of  the  curfew  as 
well  as  William  the  Bastard  himself,  or  e'er  a  Norman 
adventurer  that  fought  at  Hastings.  I  shall  hear,  I 
guess,  that  my  property  has  been  swept  off  to  save  from 
starving  the  hungry  banditti  whom  they  cannot  support 
but  by  theft  and  robbery.  My  faithful  slave  is  murdered, 
and  my  goods  are  taken  for  a  prey  —  and  Wamba — f-< 
where  is  Wamba  ?  Said  not  some  one  he  had  gone  forth 
with  Gurth  ?  " 

Oswald  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Ay !  why,  this  is  better  and  better !  he  is  carried  off 
too,  the  Saxon  fool,  to  serve  the  Norman  lord.  Fools 
are  we  all  indeed  that  serve  them,  and  fitter  subjects  for 
their  scorn  and  laughter  than  if  we  were  born  with  but 
half  our  wits.  But  I  will  be  avenged,"  he  added,  start- 
ing from  his  chair  in  impatience  at  the  supposed  injury, 
and  catching  hold  of  his  boar-spear  ;  "  I  will  go  with  my 


30  IVANHOE. 

complaint  to  the  great  council.  I  have  friends,  I  have 
followers  —  man  to  man  will  I  appeal  the  Norman  to  the 
lists.  Let  him  come  in  his  plate  and  his  mail,  and  all 
that  can  render  cowardice  bold;  I  have  sent  such  a  javelin 
as  this  through  a  stronger  fence  than  three  of  their  war 
shields  !  —  Haply  they  think  me  old ;  but  they  shall  find, 
alone  and  childless  as  I  am,  the  blood  of  Hereward  is  in 
the  veins  of  Cedric.  —  Ah,  Wilfred,  Wilfred!"  he  ex- 
claimed in  a  lower  tone,  "  couldst  thou  have  ruled  thine 
unreasonable  passion,  thy  father  had  not  been  left  in  his 
age  like  the  solitary  oak  that  throws  out  its  shattered  and 
unprotected  branches  against  the  full  sweep  of  the  tem- 
pest ! "  The  reflection  seemed  to  conjure  into  sadness  his 
irritated  feelings.  Replacing  his  javelin,  he  resumed  his 
seat,  bent  his  looks  downward,  and  appeared  to  be  ab- 
sorbed in  melancholy  reflection. 

From  his  musing  Cedric  was  suddenly  awakened  by  the 
blast  of  a  horn,  which  was  replied  to  by  the  clamorous 
yells  and  barking  of  all  the  dogs  in  the  hall,  and  some 
twenty  or  thirty  which  were  quartered  in  other  parts  of 
the  building.  It  cost  some  exercise  of  the  white  truncheon, 
well  seconded  by  the  exertions  of  the  domestics,  to  silence 
this  canine  clamour. 

"  To  the  gate,  knaves  !  "  said  the  Saxon,  hastily,  as  soon 
as  the  tumult  was  so  much  appeased  that  the  dependants 
could  hear  his  voice.  "  See  what  tidings  that  horn  tells 
us  of  —  to  announce,  I  ween,  some  hership  and  robbery 
which  has  been  done  upon  my  lands." 

Returning  in  less  than  three  minutes,  a  warder  an- 
nounced, "That  the  Prior  Aymer  of  Jorvaulx,  and  the 
good  knight  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  commander  of  the 
valiant  and  venerable  order  of  Knights  Templars,  with  a 
small  retinue,  requested  hospitality  and  lodging  for  the 
night,  being  on  their  way  to  a  tournament  which  was  to 
be  held  not  far  from  Ashby-de-la-Zouche  on  the  second 
day  from  the  present." 

"  Aymer  —  the  Prior  Aymer !  Brian  de  Bois-Guil- 
bert !  "  muttered  Cedric  —  "  Normans  both ;  but  Norman 
or  Saxon,  the  hospitality  of  Rotherwood  must  not  be 
impeached:  thev  are  welcome,  since  they  have  chosen  to 

7 


IVANHOE.  31 

halt  —  more  welcome  would  they  have  been  to  have  ridden 
further  on  their  way.  But  it  were  unworthy  to  murmur 
for  a  night's  lodging  and  a  night's  food ;  in  the  quality 
of  guests,  at  least,  even  Normans  must  suppress  their 
insolence.  —  Go,  Hundebert,"  he  added,  to  a  sort  of  major- 
domo  who  stood  behind  him  with  a  white  wand ;  "  take 
~six  of  the  attendants  and  introduce  the  strangers  to  the 
guests'  lodging.  Look  after  their  horses  and  mules,  and 
see  their  train  lack  nothing.  Let  them  have  change  of 
"*?  vestments  if  they  require  it,  and  fire,  and  water  to  wash, 
.  and  wine  and  ale ;  and  bid  the  cooks  add  what  they 
hastily  can  to  our  evening  meal ;  and  let  it  be  put  on  the 
board  when  those  strangers  are  ready  to  share  it.  Say 
to  them,  Hundebert,  that  Cedric  would  himself  bid  them 
welcome,  but  he  is  under  a  vow  never  to  step  more  than 
three  steps  from  the  dais  of  his  own  hall  to  meet  any 
who  shares  not  the  blood  of  Saxon  royalty.  Begone ! 
see  them  carefully  tended ;  let  them  not  say  in  their 
pride,  the  Saxon  churl  has  shown  at  once  his  poverty  and 
his  .avarice."--    &    ty x      jL* 

The  major-domo  departed  with  several  attendants  to 
execute  his  master's  commands.  "  The  Prior  Aymer !  " 
repeated  Cedric,  looking  to  Oswald,  "the  brother,  if  I 
mistake  not,  of  Giles  de  Mauleverer,  now  lord  of  Middle- 
ham  ?  " 

Oswald  made  a  respectful  sign  of  assent.  "  His  brother 
sits  in  the  seat,  and  usurps  the  patrimony,  of  a  better 
race  —  the  race  of  Ulfgar  of  Middleham ;  but  what  Nor- 
man lord  doth  not  the  same  ?  This  Prior,  is,  they  say,  a 
free  and  pvial  priest,  who  loves  the  wine-cup  and  the 
bugle-horn  better  than  bell  and  book.  Good ;  let  him 
come,  he  shall  be  welcome.    How  named  ye  the  Templar  ?  " 

"  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert." 

"  Bois-Guilbert !  "  said  Cedric,  still  in  the  musing,  half- 
arguing  tone  which  the  habit  of  living  among  dependants 
had  accustomed  him  to  employ,  and  which  resembled  a 
man  who  talks  to  himself  rather  than  to  those  around 
him  —  "  Bois-Guilbert !  That  name  has  been  spread 
wide  both  for  good  and  evil.  They  say  he  is  valiant  as 
the  bravest  of  his  order;    but  stained  with  their  usual 


32  IVANHOE. 

vices  —  pride,  arrogance,  cruelty,  and  voluptuousness  — 
a  hard-hearted  man,  who  knows  neither  fear  of  earth  nor 
awe  of  heaven.  So  say  the  few  warriors  who  have 
returned  from  Palestine.  —  Well,  it  is  but  for  one  night ; 
he  shall  be  welcome  too.  Oswald,  broach  the  oldest 
wine-cask ;  place  the  best  mead,  the  mightiest  ale,  the 
richest  morat,  the  most  sparkling  cider,  the  most 
odoriferous  pigments  upon  the  board ;  fill  the  largest 
horns  —  Templars  and  Abbots  love  good  wines  and  good 
measure.  —  Elgitha,  let  thy  Lady  Rowena  know  we  shall 
not  this  night  expect  her  in  the  hall,  unless  such  be  her 
especial  pleasure." 

"But  it  will  be  her  especial  pleasure,"  answered 
Elgitha,  with  great  readiness,  "  for  she  is  ever  desirous 
to  hear  the  latest  news  from  Palestine." 

Cedric  darted  at  the  forward  damsel  a  glance  of  hasty 
resentment ;  but  Rowena  and  whatever  belonged  to  her 
were  privileged,  and  secure  from  his  anger.  He  only 
replied,  "  Silence,  maiden ;  thy  tongue  outruns  thy  dis- 
cretion. Say  my  message  to  thy  mistress,  and  let  her  do 
her  pleasure.  Here,  at  least,  the  descendant  of  Alfred 
still  reigns  a  princess." 

Elgitha  left  the  apartment. 

"  Palestine  !  "  repeated  the  Saxon  ;  "  Palestine  !  how 
many  ears  are  turned  to  the  tales  which  dissolute  cru- 
saders or  hypocritical  pilgrims  bring  from  that  fatal 
land !  I  too  might  ask  —  I  too  might  inquire  — I  too 
might  listen  with  a  beating  heart  to  fables  which  the  wily 
strollers  devise  to  cheat  us  into  hospitality ;  but  no  —  the 
son  who  has  disobeyed  me  is  no  longer  mine ;  nor  will 
I  concern  myself  more  for  his  fate  than  for  that  of  the 
most  worthless  among  the  millions  that  ever  shaped  the 
cross  on  their  shoulder,  rushed  into  excess  and  blood-guilt- 
iness, and  called  it  an  accomplishment  of  the  will  of  Obd." 

He  knit  his  brows,  and  fixed  his  eyes  for  an  instant  on 
the  ground ;  as  he  raised  them,  the  folding  doors  at  the 
bottom  of  the  hall  were  cast  wide,  and  preceded  by  the 
major-domo  with  his  wand,  and  four  domestics  bearing 
blazing  torches,  the  guests  of  the  evening  entered  the 
apartment. 


IVANHOE.  33 


CHAPTER   IV. 

With  sheep  and  shaggy  goats  the  porkers  bled, 
And  the  proud  steer  was  on  the  marble  spread ; 
With  fire  prepared,  they  deal  the  morsels  round, 
Wine  rosy  bright  the  brimming  goblets  crown'd. 

•  •••*• 

Disposed  apart,  Ulysses  shares  the  treat ; 
A  trivet  table  and  ignobler  seat. 
The  Prince  assigns  — 

Odyssey,  Book  XX. 

The  Prior  Aymer  had  taken  the  opportunity  afforded 
him  of  changing  his  riding  robe  for  one  of  yet  more 
costty  materials,  over  which  he  wore  a_cope  curiously  em- 
broidered. Besides  the  massive  golden  signet  ring  which 
marked  his  ecclesiastical  dignity,  his  fingers,  though 
contrary  to  the  canon,  were  loaded  with  precious  gems  ; 
his  sandals  were  of  the  finest  leather  which  was  imported 
from  Spain ;  his  beard  trimmed  to  as  small  dimensions 
as  his  order  would  possibly  permit,  and  his  shaven  crown 
concealed  by  a  scarlet  cap  richly  embroidered. 

The  appearance  of  the  Knight  Templar  was  also 
changed ;  and  though  less  studiously  bedecked  with 
ornament,  his  dress  was  as  rich,  and  his  appearance  far 
more  commanding,  than  that  of  his  companion.  He  had 
exchanged  his  shirt  of  mail  for  an  under  tunic  of  dark 
purple  silk,  garnished  with  furs,  over  which  flowed  his 
long  robe  of  spotless  white  in  ample  folds.  The  eight - 
pointed  cross  of  his  order  was  cut  on  the  shoulder  of  his 
mantle  in  black  velvet.  The  high  cap  no  longer  invested 
his  brows,  which  wrere  only  shaded  by  short  and  thick 
curled  hair  of  a  raven  blackness,  corresponding  to  his 
unusually  swarf  complexion.  Nothing  could  be  more 
gracefully  majestic  than  his  step  and  manner,  had  they 
not  been  marked  by  a  predominant  air  of  haughtiness, 
easily  acquired  by  the  exercise  of  unresisted  authority. 

These  two  dignified  persons  were  followed  by  their 
respective  attendants,  and  at  a  more  humble  distance  by 
their  guide,  whose  figure  had  nothing  more  remarkable 


( 


34  IVANHOE. 

than  it  derived  from  the  usual  weeds  of  a  pilgrim.  A 
cloak  or  mantle  of  coarse  black  serge  enveloped  his  whole 
body.  It  was  in  shape  something  like  the  cloak  of  a 
modern  hussar,  having  similar  flaps  for  covering  the 
arms,  and  was  called  a  Sclaveyn,  or  Sclavonian.  Coarse 
sandals,  bound  with  thongs,  on  his  bare  feet;  a  broad 
and  shadowy  hat,  with  cockle-shells  stitched  on  its  brim, 
and  a  long  staff  shod  with  iron,  to  the  upper  end  of  which 
was  attached  a  branch  of  palm,  completed  the  Palmer's 
attire.  He  followed  modestly  the  last  of  the  train  which 
entered  the  hall,  and,  observing  that  the  lower  table  scarce 
afforded  room  sufficient  for  the  domestics  of  Cedric  and 
the  retinue  of  his  guests,  he  withdrew  to  a  settle  placed 
beside,  and  almost  under,  one  of  the  large  chimneys,  and 
seemed  to  employ  himself  in  drying  his  garments,  until 
the  retreat  of  some  one  should  make  room  at  the  board, 
or  the  hospitality  of  the  steward  should  supply  him  with 
refreshments  in  the  place  he  had  chosen  apart. 

Cedric  rose  to  receive  his  guests  with  an  air  of  digni- 
fied hospitality,  and,  descending  from  the  dais,  or  elevated 
part  of  his  hall,  made  three  steps  towards  them,  and  then 
awaited  their  approach. 

"  I  grieve,"  he  said,  "  reverend  Prior,  that  my  vow 
binds  me  to  advance  no  farther  upon  this  floor  of  my 
fathers,  even  to  receive  such  guests  as  you  and  this 
valiant  Knight  of  the  Holy  Temple.  But  my  steward 
has  expounded  to  you  the  cause  of  my  seeming  dis- 
courtesy. Let  me  also  pray  that  you  will  excuse  my 
speaking  to  you  in  my  native  language,  and  that  you 
will  reply  in  the  same  if  your  knowledge  of  it  permits ;  if 
not,  I  sufficiently  understand  Norman  to  follow  your 
meaning." 

"  Vows,"  said  the  Abbot,  "  must  be  unloosed,  worthy 
Franklin,  or  permit  me  rather  to  say,  worthy  Thane, 
though  the  title  is  antiquated.  Vows  are  the  knots 
which  tie  us  to  Heaven  —  they  are  the  cords  which  bind 
the  sacrifice  to  the  horns  of  the  altar  —  and  are  therefore, 
as  I  said  before,  to  be  unloosed  and  discharged,  unless 
our  Holy  Mother  Church  shall  pronounce  the  contrary. 
And  respecting  language,  I  willingly  hold  communication 


IVANHOE.  35 

in  that  spoken  by  my  respected  grandmother,  Hilda  of 
Middleharu,  who  died  in  odour  of  sanctity,  little  short,  if 
we  may  presume  to  say  so,  of  her  glorious  namesake,  the 
blessed  Saint  Hilda  of  Whitby  —  God  be  gracious  to  her 
soul ! " 

When  the  Prior  had  ceased  what  he  meant  as  a  concili- 
atory harangue,  his  companion  said  briefly  and  emphati- 
cally, "  I  speak  ever  French,  the  language  of  King  Richard 
and  his  nobles ;  but  I  understand  English  sufficiently  to 
communicate  with  the  natives  of  the  country." 

Cedric  darted  at  the  speaker  one  of  those  hasty  and 
impatient  glances  which  comparisons  between  the  two 
rival  nations  seldom  failed  to  call  forth ;  but,  recollecting 
the  duties  of  hospitality,  he  suppressed  further  show  of 
resentment,  and,  motioning  with  his  hand,  caused  his 
guests  to  assume  two  seats  a  little  lower  than  his  own, 
but  placed  close  beside  him,  and  gave  a  signal  that  the 
evening  meal  should  be  placed  upon  the  board. 

While  the  attendants  hastened  to  obey  Cedric's  com- 
mands, his  eye  distinguished  Gurth,  the  swineherd,  who, 
with  his  companion  Wamba,  had  just  entered  the  hall. 
"  Send  these  loitering  knaves  up  hither,"  said  the  Saxon, 
impatiently.  And  when  the  culprits  came  before  the 
dais  —  "How  comes  it,  villains,  that  you  have  loitered 
abroad  so  late  as  this  ?  Hast  thou  brought  home  thy 
charge,  sirrah  Gurth,  or  hast  thou  left  them  to  robbers 
and  marauders  ?  " 

"  The  herd  is  safe,  so  please  ye,"  said  Gurth. 

"  But  it  does  not  please  me,  thou  knave,"  said  Cedric, 
"  that  I  should  be  made  to  suppose  otherwise  for  two 
hours,  and  sit  here  devising  vengeance  against  my  neigh- 
bours for  wrongs  they  have  not  done  me.  I  tell  thee, 
shackles  and  the  prison-house  shall  punish  the  next 
'offence  of  this  kind." 

Gurth,  knowing  his  master's  irritable  temper,  at- 
tempted no  exculpation ;  but  the  Jester,  who  could  pre- 
sume upon  Cedric's  tolerance,  by  virtue  of  his  privileges 
as  a  fool,  replied  for  them  both :  "  In  troth,  uncle  Cedric, 
you  are  neither  wise  nor  reasonable  to-night." 

"How,  sir!"  said  his  master j  "you  shall  to  the  por- 


36  IVANHOE. 

ter's  lodge  and  taste  of  the  discipline  there,  if  you  give 
your  foolery  such  license." 

"  First  let  your  wisdom  tell  me,"  said  Wamba,  "  is  it 
just  and  reasonable  to  punish  one  person  for  the  fault  of 
another  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  fool,"  answered  Cedric. 

"  Then  why  should  you  shackle  poor  Gurth,  uncle,  for 
the  fault  of  his  dog  Fangs  ?  for  I  dare  be  sworn  we  lost 
not  a  minute  by  the  way,  when  we  had  got  our  herd  to- 
gether, which  Fangs  did  not  manage  until  we  heard  the 
vesper-bell." 

"Then  hang  up  Fangs,"  said  Cedric,  turning  hastily 
towards  the  swineherd,  "  if  the  fault  is  his,  and  get  thee 
another  dog." 

"  Under  favour,  uncle,"  said  the  Jester,  "  that  were  still 
somewhat  on  the  bow-hand  of  fair  justice ;  for  it  was  no 
fault  of  Fangs  that  he  was  lame  and  could  not  gather  the 
herd,  but  the  fault  of  those  that  struck  off  two  of  his  fore- 
claws,  an  operation  for  which,  if  the  poor  fellow  had  been 
consulted,  he  would  scarce  have  given  his  voice." 

"  And  who  dared  to  lame  an  animal  which  belonged  to 
my  bondsman  ?  "  said  the  Saxon,  kindling  in  wrath. 

"  Marry,  that  did  old  Hubert,"  said  Wamba,  "  Sir  Philip 
de  Malvoisin's  keeper  of  the  chase.  He  caught  Fangs 
strolling  in  the  forest,  and  said  he  chased  the  deer  con- 
trary to  his  master's  right,  as  warden  of  the  walk." 

"  The  foul  fiend  take,  Malvoisin,"  answered  the  Saxon, 
"  and  his  keeper  both  !  I  will  teach  them  that  the  wood 
was  disforested  in  terms  of  the  great  Forest  Charter.  But 
enough  of  this.  Go  to,  knave,  —  go  to  thy  place ;  and  thou, 
Gurth,  get  thee  another  dog,  and  should  the  keeper  dare 
to  touch  it,  I  will  mar  his  archery  ;  the  curse  of  a  coward 
on  my  head,  if  I  strike  not  off  the  forefinger  of  his  right 
hand  !  he  shall  draw  bowstring  no  more.  —  I  craye  your 
pardon,  my  worthy  guests.  I  am  beset  here  with  neigh- 
bours that  match  your  infidels,  Sir  Knight,  in  Holy  Land. 
But  your  homely  fare  is  before  you ;  feed,  and  let  welcome 
make  amends  for  hard  fare." 

The  feast,  however,  which  was  spread  upon  the  board 
needed  no  apologies  from  the  lord  of  the  mansion.    Swine's 


IVANHOE.  37 

flesh,  dressed  in  several  modes,  appeared  on  the  lower  part 
of  the  board,  as  also  that  of  fowls,  deer,  goats,  and  hares, 
and  various  kinds  of  fish,  together  with  huge  loaves  and 
cakes  of  bread,  and  sundry  confections  made  of  fruits  and 
honey.  The  smaller  sorts  of  wild-fowl,  of  which  there 
was  abundance,  were  not  served  up  in  platters,  but  brought 
in  upon  small  wooden  spits  or  broaches,  and  offered  by  the 
pages  and  domestics  who  bore  them  to  each  guest  in  suc- 
cession, who  cut  from  them  such  a  portion  as  he  pleased. 
Beside  each  person  of  rank  was  placed  a  goblet  of  silver ; 
the  lower  board  was  accommodated  with  large  drinking- 
horns. 

When  the  repast  was  about  to  commence,  the  major- 
domo,  or  steward,  suddenly  raising  his  wand,  said  aloud: 
"Forbear!  —  Place  for  the  Lady  Rowena."  A  side-door 
at  the  upper  end  of  the  hall  now  opened  behind  the  ban- 
quet table,  and  Rowena,  followed  by  four  female  attend- 
ants, entered  the  apartment.  Cedric,  though  surprised, 
and  perhaps  not  altogether  agreeably  so,  at  his  wTard  ap- 
pearing in  public  on  this  occasion,  hastened  to  meet  her, 
and  to  conduct  her,  with  respectful  ceremony,  to  the  ele- 
vated seat  at  his  own  right  hand  appropriated  to  the  lady 
of  the  mansion.  All  stood  up  to  receive  her ;  and  reply- 
ing to  their  courtesy  by  a  mute  gesture  of  salutation,  she 
moved  gracefully  forward  to  assume  her  place  at  the  board. 
Ere  she  had  time  to  do  so,  the  Templar  whispered  to  the 
Prior :  "  I  shall  wear  no  collar  of  gold  of  yours  at  the 
tournament.     The  Chian  wine  is  your  own." 

"  Said  I  not  so  ?  "  answered  the  Prior ;  "  but  check 
your  raptures,  the  Franklin  observes  you." 

Unheeding  this  remonstrance,  and  accustomed  only  to 
act  upon  the  immediate  impulse  of  his  own  wishes,  Brian 
de  Bois-Guilbert  kept  his  eyes  riveted  on  the  Saxon 
beauty,  more  striking  perhaps  to  his  imagination  because 
differing  widely  from  those  of  the  Eastern  sultanas. 

Formed  in  the  best  proportions  of  her  sex,  Eowena  was 
tall  in  stature,  yet  not  so  much  so  as  to  attract  observa-     .• 
tion  on  account  of  superior  height.     Her  complexion  was 
exquisitely  fair,  but  the  noble  cast  of  her  head  and  fea- 
tures prevented  the  insipidity  which  sometimes  attaches 


A 


4 


38  IVANHOE. 

to  fair  beauties.  Her  clear  blue  eye,  which  sate  enshrined 
beneath  a  graceful  eyebrow  of  brown,  sufficiently  marked 
to  give  expression  to  the  forehead,  seemed  capable  to 
kindle  as  well  as  melt,  to  command  as  well  as  to  beseech. 
If  mildness  were  the  more  natural  expression  of  such  a 
combination  of  features,  it  was  plain  that,  in  the  present 
instance,  the  exercise  of  habitual  superiority,  and  the  re- 
ception of  general  homage,  had  given  to  the  Saxon  lady 
a  loftier  character,  which  mingled  with  and  qualified  that 
bestowed  by  nature.  Her  profuse  hair,  of  a  colour  betwixt 
brown  and  flaxen,  was  arranged  in  a  fanciful  and  graceful 
manner  in  numerous  ringlets,  to  form  which  art  had  prob- 
ably aided  nature.  These  locks  were  braided  with  gems, 
and  being  worn  at  full  length,  intimated  the  noble  birth 
and  free-born  condition  of  the  maiden.  A  golden  chain, 
to  which  was  attached  a  small  reliquary  of  the  same 
metal,  hung  round  her  neck.  She  wore  bracelets  on  her 
arms,  which  were  bare.  Her  dress  was  an  under-gown  and 
kirtle  of  pale  sea-green  silk,  over  which  hung  a  long  loose 
robe  which  reached  to  the  ground,  having  very  wide 
sleeves,  which  came  down,  however,  very  little  below  the 
elbow.  This  robe  was  crimson,  and  manufactured  out  of 
the  very  finest  wool.  A  veil  of  silk  interwoven  with 
gold  was  attached  to  the  upper  part  of  it,  which  could 
be,  at  the  wearer's  pleasure,  either  drawn  over  the  face 
and  bosom  after  the  Spanish  fashion,  or  disposed  as  a 
sort  of  drapery  round  the  shoulders. 

When  Rowena  perceived  the  Knight  Templar's  eyes 
bent  on  her  with  an  ardour  that,  compared  with  the  dark 
caverns  under  which  they  moved,  gave  them  the  effect  of 
lighted  charcoal,  she  drew  with  dignity  the  veil  around 
her  face,  as  an  intimation  that  the  determined  freedom 
of  his  glance  was  disagreeable. 

Cedric  saw  the  motion  and  its  cause.  "  Sir  Templar," 
said  he^  "  the  cheeks  of  our  Saxon  maidens  have  seen  too 
little  of  the  sun  to  enable  them  to  bear  the  fixed  glance 
of  a  crusader." 

"  If  I  have  offended,"  replied  Sir  Brian,  "  I  crave  your 
pardon  —  that  is,  I  crave  the  Lady  Rowena's  pardon  — 
for  my  humility  will  carry  me  no  lower." 


IVANHOE.  39 

"  The  Lady  Rowena,"  said  the  Prior,  "  has  punished 
us  all,  in  chastising  the  boldness  of  my  friend.  Let  me 
hope  she  will  be  less  cruel  to  the  splendid  train  which 
are  to  meet  at  the  tournament." 

"  Our  going  thither,"  said  Cedric,  "  is  uncertain.  I  love 
not  these  vanities,  which  were  unknown  to  my  fathers 
when  England  was  free." 

"  Let  us  hope,  nevertheless,"  said  the  Prior,  "  our  com- 
pany may  determine  you  to  travel  thitherward;  when 
the  roads  are  so  unsafe,  the  escort  of  Sir  Brian  de  Bois- 
Guilbert  is  not  to  be  despised." 

"  Sir  Prior,"  answered  the  Saxon,  "  wheresoever  I  have 
travelled  in  this  land,  I  have  hitherto  found  myself,  with 
the  assistance  of  my  good  sword  and  faithful  followers, 
in  no  respect  needful  of  other  aid.  At  present,  if  we 
indeed  journey  to  Ashby-de-la-Zouche,  we  do  so  with  my 
noble  neighbour  and  countryman,  Athelstane  of  Conings- 
burgh,  and  with  such  a  train  as  would  set  outlaws  and 
feudal  enemies  at  defiance.  —  I  drink  to  you,  Sir  Prior, 
in  this  cup  of  wine,  which  I  trust  your  taste  will  approve, 
and  I  thank  you  for  your  courtesy.  Should  you  be  so 
rigid  in  adhering  to  monastic  rule,"  he  added,  "  as  to 
prefer  your  acid  preparation  of  milk,  I  hope  you  will  not 
strain  courtesy  to  do  me  reason." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  Priest,  laughing,  "  it  is  only  in  our 
abbey  that  we  confine  ourselves  to  the  lac  dulce  or  the 
lac  acidum  either.  Conversing  with  the  world,  we  use 
the  world's  fashion,  and  therefore  I  answer  your  pledge 
in  this  honest  wine,  and  leave  the  weaker  liquor  to  my 
lay-brother." 

"  And  I,"  said  the  Templar,  filling  his  goblet,  "  drink 
wassail  to  the  fair  Rowena ;  for  since  her  namesake  intro- 
duced the  word  into  England,  has  never  been  one  more 
worthy  of  such  a  tribute.  By  my  faith,  I  could  pardon 
the  unhappy  Vortigern,  had  he  half  the  cause  that  we 
now  witness  for  making  shipwreck  of  his  honour  and 
his  kingdom." 

"  I  will  spare  your  courtesy,  Sir  Knight,"  said  Rowena 
with  dignity,  and  without  unveiling  herself ;  "  or  rather  I 
will  tax  it  so  far  as  to  require  of  you  the  latest  news  from 


40  IV AN  HOE. 

Palestine,  a  theme  more  agreeable  to  our  English  ears  than 
the  compliments  which  your  French  breeding  teaches." 

"I  have  little  of  importance  to  say,  lady,"  answered 
Sir  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  "excepting  the  confirmed 
tidings  of  a  truce  with  Saladin." 

He  was  interrupted  by  Wamba,  who  had  taken  his 
appropriated  seat  upon  a  chair  the  back  of  which  was 
decorated  with  two  ass's  ears,  and  which  was  placed 
about  two  steps  behind  that  of  his  master,  who,  from 
time  to  time,  supplied  him  with  victuals  from  his  own 
trencher ;  a  favour,  however,  which  the  Jester  shared 
with  the  favourite  dogs,  of  whom,  as  we  have  already 
noticed,  there  were  several  in  attendance.  Here  sat 
Wamba,  with  a  small  table  before  him,  his  heels  tucked 
up  against  the  bar  of  the  chair,  his  cheeks  sucked  up  so 
as  to  make  his  jaws  resemble  a  pair  of  nut-crackers,  and 
his  eyes  half-shut,  yet  watching  with  alertness  every 
opportunity  to  exercise  his  licensed  foolery. 

"  These  truces  with  the  infidels,"  he  exclaimed,  without 
caring  how  suddenly  he  interrupted  the  stately  Templar, 
"  make  an  old  man  of  me  !  " 

"  Go  to,  knave  —  how  so  ?  "  said  Cedric,  his  features 
prepared  to  receive  favourably  the  expected  jest. 

"  Because,"  answered  Wamba,  "  I  remember  three  of 
them  in  my  day,  each  of  which  was  to  endure  for  the 
course  of  fifty  years;  so  that,  by  computation,  I  must  be 
at  least  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  old." 

"  I  will  warrant  you  against  dying  of  old  age,  however," 
said  the  Templar,  who  now  recognised  his  friend  of  the 
forest ;  "  I  will  assure  you  from  all  deaths  but  a  violent 
one,  if  you  give  such  directions  to  wayfarers  as  you  did 
this  night  to  the  Prior  and  me." 

"  How,  sirrah  !  "  said  Cedric,  "  misdirect  travellers  ? 
We  must  have  you  whipt;  you  are  at  least  as  much 
rogue  as  fool." 

"  I  pray  thee,  uncle,"  answered  the  Jester,  "  let  my 
folly   for  once  protect  my  roguery.     I  did  but  make  a 
mistake  between   my   right  hand  and  my  left;  and  he 
might  have  pardoned  a  greater  who  took  a  fool  for  his  - 
counsellor  and  guide." 


IVANHOE.  41 

Conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of 
the  porter's  page,  who  announced  that  there  was  a  stranger 
at  the  gate,  imploring  admittance  and  hospitality. 

"Admit  him,"  said  Cedric,  "be  he  who  or  what  he 
may ;  —  a  night  like  that  which  roars  without,  compels 
even  wild  animals  to  herd  with  tame,  and  to  seek  the 
protection  of  man,  their  mortal  foe,  rather  than  perish 
by  the  elements.  Let  his  wants  be  ministered  to  with 
all  care ;  look  to  it,  Oswald." 

And  the  steward  left  the  banqueting-hall  to  see  the 
commands  of  his  patron  obeyed. 


CHAPTER   V. 

■ 

Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes  ?  Hath  not  a  Jew  hands,  organs,  dimen- 
sions, senses,  affections,  passions  ?  Fed  with  the  same  food,  hurt 
with  the  same  weapons,  subject  to  the  same  diseases,  healed  by  the 
same  means,  warmed  and  cooled  by  the  same  winter  and  summer, 
as  a  Christian  is  ?  —  Merchant  of  Venice. 

Oswald,  returning,  whispered  into  the  ear  of  his 
master,  "  It  is  a  Jew,  who  calls  himself  Isaac  of  York ; 
is  it  fit  I  should  marshal  him  into  the  hall  ?  " 

"  Let  Gurth  do  thine  office,  Oswald,"  said  Wamba  with 
his  usual  effrontery ;  "  the  swineherd  will  be  a  fit  usher 
to  the  Jew." 

"  St.  Mary,"  said  the  Abbot,  crossing  himself,  "  an  un- 
believing Jew,  and  admitted  into  this  presence  !  " 

"A  dog  Jew,"  echoed  the  Templar,  "to  approach  a 
defender  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  ?  " 

"By  my  faith,"  said  Wamba,  "it  would  seem  the 
Templars  love  the  Jews'  inheritance  better  than  they  do 
their  company." 

"  Peace,  my  worthy  guests,"  said  Cedric ;  "  my  hospi- 
tality must  not  be  bounded  by  your  dislikes.  If  Heaven 
bore  with  the  whole  nation  of  stiff-necked  unbelievers 
for  more  years  than  a  layman  can  number,  we  may  endure 
the  presence  of  one  Jew  for  a  few  hours.  But  I  constrain 
no  man  to  converse  or  to  feed  with  him.  —  Let  him  have 


42  IVANHOE. 


aboard  and  a  morsel  apart,  —  unless,"  he  said  smiling, 
"  these  turban'd  strangers  will  admit  his  society." 

"  Sir  Franklin,"  answered  the  Templar,  "  my  Saracen 
slaves  are  true  Moslems,  and  scorn  as  much  as  any  Chris- 
tian to  hold  intercourse  with  a  Jew." 

"  Now,  in  faith,"  said  Wamba,  "  I  cannot  see  that  the 
worshippers  of  Mahound  and  Termagaunt  have  so  greatly 
the  advantage  over  the  people  once  chosen  of  Heaven." 

"  He  shall  sit  with  thee,  Wamba,"  said  Cedric ;  "  the 
fool  and  the  knave  will  be  well  met." 

"  The  fool,"  answered  Wamba,  raising  the  relics  of  a 
gammon  of  bacon,  "will  take  care  to  erect  a  bulwark 
against  the  knave." 

"  Hush,"  said  Cedric,  "  for  here  he  comes." 

Introduced  with  little  ceremony,  and  advancing  with 
fear  and  hesitation,  and  many  a  bow  of  deep  humility,  a 
tall  thin  old  man,  who,  however,  had  lost  by  the  habit  of 
stooping  much  of  his  actual  height,  approached  the  lower 
end  of  the  board.  His  features,  keen  and  regular,  with 
an  aquiline  nose,  and  piercing  black  eyes ;  his  high  and 
wrinkled  forehead,  and  long  grey  hair  and  beard,  would 
have  been  considered  as  handsome,  had  they  not  been  the 
marks  of  a  physiognomy  peculiar  to  a  race  which,  during 
those  dark  ages,  was  alike  detested  by  the  credulous  and 
prejudiced  vulgar,  and  persecuted  by  the  greedy  and  ra- 
pacious nobility,  and  who,  perhaps  owing  to  that  very 
hatred  and  persecution,*  had  adopted  a  national  charac- 
ter in  which  there  was  much,  to  say  the  least,  mean  and 
unamiable. 

The  Jew's  dress,  which  appeared  to  have  suffered  consid- 
erably from  the  storm,  was  a  plain  russet  cloak  of  many 
folds,  covering  a  dark  purple  tunic.  He  had  large  boots 
lined  with  fur,  and  a  belt  around  his  waist,  which  sus- 
tained a  small  knife,  together  with  a  case  for  writing 
materials,  but  no  weapon.  He  wore  a  high  square  yellow 
cap  of  a  peculiar  fashion,  assigned  to  his  nation  to  distin- 
guish them  from  Christians,  and  which  he  doffed  with 
great  humility  at  the  door  of  the  hall. 

The  reception  of  this  person  in  the  hall  of  Cedric  the 
SaAon  was  such  as  might  have  satisfied  the  most  preju 


IVANHOE.  43 

diced  enemy  of  the  tribes  of  Israel.  Cedric  himself 
coldly  nodded  in  answer  to  the  Jew's  repeated  saluta- 
tions, and  signed  to  him  to  take  place  at  the  lower  end 
of  the  table,  where,  however,  no  one  offered  to  make  room 
for  him.  On  the  contrary,  as  he  passed  along  the  file, 
casting  a  timid,  supplicating  glance,  and  turning  towards 
each  of  those  who  occupied  the  lower  end  of  the  board, 
the  Saxon  domestics  squared  their  shoulders,  and  contin- 
ued to  devour  their  supper  with  great  perseverance,  pay- 
ing not  the  least  attention  to  the  wants  of  the  new  guest. 
The  attendants  of  the  Abbot  crossed  themselves,  with 
looks  of  pious  horror,  and  the  very  heathen  Saracens,  as 
Isaac  drew  near  them,  curled  up  their  whiskers  with  in- 
dignation, and  laid  their  hands  on  their  poniards,  as  if 
ready  to  rid  themselves  by  the  most  desperate  means  from 
the  apprehended  contamination  of  his  nearer  approach. 

Probably  the  same  motives  which  induced  Cedric  to 
open  his  hall  to  this  son  of  a  rejected  people  would  have 
made  him  insist  on  his  attendants  receiving  Isaac  with 
more  courtesy ;  but  the  Abbot  had  at  this  moment  en- 
gaged him  in  a  most  interesting  discussion  on  the  breed 
and  character  of  his  favourite  hounds,  which  he  would 
not  have  interrupted  for  matters  of  much  greater  impor- 
tance than  that  of  a  Jew  going  to  bed  supperless.  While 
Isaac  thus  stood  an  outcast  in  the  present  society,  like  his 
people  among  the  nations,  looking  in  vain  for  welcome  or 
resting-place,  the  Pilgrim,  who  sat  by  the  chimney,  took 
compassion  upon  him,  and  resigned  his  seat,  saying  briefly, 
"  Old  man,  my  garments  are  dried,  my  hunger  is  appeased; 
thou  art  both  wet  and  fasting."  So  saying,  he  gathered 
together  and  brought  to  a  flame  the  decaying  brands  which 
lay  scattered  on  the  ample  hearth ;  took  from  the  larger 
board  a  mess  of  pottage  and  seethed  kid,  placed  it  upon 
the  small  table  at  which  he  had  himself  supped,  and,  with- 
out waiting  the  Jew's  thanks,  went  to  the  other  side  of 
the  hall,  whether  from  unwillingness  to  hold  more  close 
communication  with  the  object  of  his  benevolence,  or 
from  a  wish  to  draw  near  to  the  upper  end  of  the  table, 
seemed  uncertain. 

Had  there  been  painters  in  those  days  capable  to  exe- 


44  IVANHOE. 

cute  such  a  subject,  the  Jew,  as  he  bent  his  withered  form 
and  expanded  his  chilled  and  trembling  hands  over  the 
fire,  would  have  formed  no  bad  emblematical  personifica- 
tion of  the  Winter  season.  Having  dispelled  the  cold,  he 
turned  eagerly  to  the  smoking  mess  which  was  placed 
before  him,  and  ate  with  a  haste  and  an  apparent  relish 
that  seemed  to  betoken  long  abstinence  from  food. 

Meanwhile  the  Abbot  and  Cedric  continued  their  dis- 
course upon  hunting;  the  Lady  Rowena  seemed  engaged 
in  conversation  with  one  of  her  attendant  females ;  and 
the  haughty  Templar,  whose  eye  seemed  to  wander  from 
the  Jew  to  the  Saxon  beauty,  revolved  in  his  mind 
thoughts  which  appeared  deeply  to  interest  him. 

"  I  marvel,  worthy  Cedric,"  said  the  Abbot,  as  their  dis- 
course proceeded,  "  that,  great  as  your  predilection  is  for 
your  own  manly  language,  you  do  not  receive  the  Norman- 
French  into  your  favour,  so  far  at  least  as  the  mystery  of 
wood-craft  and  hunting  is  concerned.  Surely  no  tongue 
is  so  rich  in  the  various  phrases  which  -the  field-sports 
demand,  or  furnishes  means  to  the  experienced  woodman 
so  well  to  express  his  jovial  art." 

"Good  Father  Aymer,"  said  the  Saxon,  "be  it  known 
to  you,  I  care  not  for  those  over-sea  refinements,  without 
which  I  can  well  enough  take  my  pleasure  in  the  woods. 
I  can  wind  my  horn,  though  I  call  not  the  blast  either  a 
recheat  or  a  mort ;  I  can  cheer  my  dogs  on  the  prey,  and  I 
can  flay  and  quarter  the  ,animal  when  it  is  brought  down, 
without  using  the  new-fangled  jargon  of  curee,  arbor,  nom- 
bles,  and  all  the  babble  of  the  fabulous  Sir  Tristrem." 

"  The  French,"  said  the  Templar,  raising  his  voice  with 
the  presumptuous  and  authoritative  tone  which  he  used 
upon  all  occasions,  "  is  not  only  the  natural  language  of 
the  chase,  but  that  of  love  and  of  war,  in  which  ladies 
should  be  won  and  enemies  defied."  j 

"  Pledge  me  in  a  cup  of  wine,  Sir  Templar,"  said  Cedric, 
"and  fill  another  to  the  Abbot,  while  I  look  back  some 
thirty  years  to  tell  you  another  tale.  As  Cedric  the 
Saxon  then  was,  his  plain  English  tale  needed  no  garnish 
from  French  troubadours  when  it  was  told  in  the  ear  of 
beauty ;  and  the  field  of  Northallerton,  upon  the  day  of 


IVANHOE.  45 

the  Holy  Standard,  could  tell  whether  the  Saxon  war-cry 
was  not  heard  as  far  within  the  ranks  of  the  Scottish 
host  as  the  cri  de  guerre  of  the  boldest  Norman  baron. 
To  the  memory  of  the  brave  who  fought  there  !  —  Pledge 
me,  my  guests."  He  drank  deep,  and  went  on  with  in- 
creasing warmth :  "  Ay,  that  was  a  day  of  cleaving  of 
shields,  when  a  hundred  banners  were  bent  forward  over 
the  heads  of  the  valiant,  and  blood  flowed  round  like 
water,  and  death  was  held  better  than  flight.  A  Saxon 
bard  had  called  it  a  feast  of  the  swords  —  a  gathering  of 
the  eagles  to  the  prey  —  the  clashing  of  bills  upon  shield 
and  helmet,  the  shouting  of  battle  more  joyful  than  the 
clamour  of  a  bridal.  But  our  bards  are  no  more,"  he  said ; 
"  our  deeds  are  lost  in  those  of  another  race  ;  our  language 
—  our  very  name  —  is  hastening  to  decay,  and  none 
mourns  for  it  save  one  solitary  old  man.  —  Cupbearer ! 
knave,  fill  the  goblets.  To  the  strong  in  arms,  Sir  Tem- 
plar, be  their  race  or  language  what  it  will,  who  now  bear 
them  best  in  Palestine  among  the  champions  of  the  Cross ! " 

"  It  becomes  not  one  wearing  this  badge  to  answer," 
said  Sir  Brian  de  Bois-G-uilbert ;  "yet  to  whom,  besides 
the  sworn  champions  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  can  the 
palm  be  assigned  among  the  champions  of  the  Cross  ?  " 

"To  the  Knights  Hospitallers,"  said  the  Abbot;  "I 
have  a  brother  of  their  order." 

"I  impeach  not  their  fame,"  said  the  Templar ;  "never- 
theless—  " 

"I  think,  friend  Cedric,"  said  Wamba,  interfering, 
"  that  had  Bichard  of  the  Lion's  Heart  been  wise  enough 
to  have  taken  a  fool's  advice,  he  might  have  stayed  at 
home  with  his  merry  Englishmen,  and  left  the  recovery 
of  Jerusalem  to  those  same  knights  who  had  most  to  do 
with  the  loss  of  it." 

"  Were  there,  then,  none  in  the  English  army,"  said  the 
Lady  Bowena,  "  whose  names  are  worthy  to  be  mentioned 
with  the  Knights  of  the  Temple  and  of  St.  John  ?  " 

"Forgive  me,  lady,"  replied  De  Bois-Guilbert ;  "the 
English  monarch  did  indeed  bring  to  Palestine  a  host  of 
gallant  warriors,  second  only  to  those  whose  breasts  have 
been  the  unceasing  bulwark  of  that  blessed  land." 


i6  IVAN  HOE. 

"  Second  to  none,"  said  the  Pilgrim,  who  had  stood 
near  enough  to  hear,  and  had  listened  to  this  conversation 
with  marked  im  patience.  All  turned  towards  the  spot 
from  whence  this  unexpected  asseveration  was  heard. 
"  I  say,"  repeated  the  Pilgrim  in  a  firm  and  strong  voice, 
"  that  the  English  chivalry  were  second  to  none  who  ever 
drew  sword  in  defence  of  the  Holy  Land.  I  say  besides, 
for  I  saw  it,  that  King  Richard  himself,  and  live  of  his 
knights,  held  a  tournament  after  the  taking  of  St.  John- 
de-Acre,  as  challengers  against  all  coiners.  I  say  that, 
on  that  day,  each  knight  ran  three  courses,  and  cast  to 
the  ground  three  antagonists:  I  add,  that  seven  of  these 
•  assailants  were  Knights  of  the  Temple ;  and  Sir  Brian 
it  de  Bois-G-uilbert  well  knows  the  truth  of  what  I  tell 
you." 

It  is  impossible  for  language  to  describe  the  bitter  scowl 
of  rage  which  rendered  yet  darker  the  swarthy  counte- 
nance of  the  Templar.  In  the  extremity  of  his  resent- 
ment and  confusion,  his  quivering  fingers  griped  towards 
the  handle  of  his  sword,  and  perhaps  only  withdrew  from 
the  consciousness  that  no  act  of  violence  could  be  safely 
executed  in  that  place  and  presence.  Cedric,  whose  feel- 
ings were  all  of  a  right  onward  and  simple  kind,  and  were 
seldom  occupied  by  more  than  one  object  at  once,  omitted, 
in  the  joyous  glee  with  which  he  heard  of  the  glory  of 
his  countrymen,  to  remark  the  angry  confusion  of  his 
guest.  "  I  would  give  thee  this  golden  bracelet,  Pilgrim," 
he  said,  "  couldst  thou  tell  me  the  names  of  those  knights 
who  upheld  so  gallantly  the  renown  of  merry  England." 

"  That  will  I  do  blithely,"  replied  the  Pilgrim,  "  and 
without  guerdon  5  my  oath,  for  a  time,  prohibits  me  from 
touching  gold." 

"  I  will  wear  the  bracelet  for  you,  if  you  will,  friend 
Palmer,"  said  Wamba. 

"The  first  in  honour  as  in  arms,  in  renown  as  in 
place,"  said  the  Pilgrim,  "  was  the  brave  Richard,  King 
of  England." 

"I  forgive  him,"  said  Cedric  —  "I  forgive  him  his 
descent  from  the  tyrant  Duke  William." 

"  The  Earl  of  Leicester  was  the  second,"  continued  the 


1VANH0E.  47 

Pilgrim.      "  Sir   Thomas   Multon   of   Gilsland   was    the 
third." 

"  Of  Saxon  descent,  he  at  least,"  said  Cedric,  with 
exultation. 

"  Sir  Foulk  Doilly  the  fourth,"  proceeded  the  Pilgrim. 

"  Saxon  also,  at  least  by  the  mother's  side,"  continued 
Cedric,  who  listened  with  the  utmost  eagerness,  and  for- 
got, in  part  at  least,  his  hatred  to  the  Normans  in  the 
common  triumph  of  the  King  of  England  and  his 
islanders.     "  And  who  was  the  fifth  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  The  fifth  was  Sir  Edwin  Turneham." 

"  Genuine  Saxon,  by  the  soul  of  Hengist !  "  shouted 
Cedric.  "  And  the  sixth  ?  "  he  continued  with  eagerness 
—  "  how  name  you  the  sixth  ?  " 

"  The  sixth,"  said  the  Palmer,  after  a  pause,  in  which 
he  seemed  to  recollect  himself,  "  was  a  young  knight  of 
lesser  renown  and  lower  rank,  assumed  into  that  honour- 
able company  less  to  aid  their  enterprise  than  to  make 
up  their  number ;  his  name  dwells  not  in  my  memory." 

"  Sir  Palmer,"  said  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  scornfully, 
"  this  assumed  forgetfulness,  after  so  much  has  been  re- 
membered, comes  too  late  to  serve  your  purpose.  I  will 
myself  tell  the  name  of  the  knight  before  whose  lance 
fortune  and  my  horse's  fault  occasioned  my  falling  —  it 
was  the  Knight  of  Ivanhoe ;  nor  was  there  one  of  the  six 
that,  for  his  years,  had  more  renown  in  arms.  —  Yet  this 
will  I  say,  and  loudly  —  that  were  he  in  England,  and 
durst  repeat,  in  this  week's  tournament,  the  challenge  of 
St.  John-de-Acre,  I,  mounted  and  armed  as  I  now  am, 
would  give  him  every  advantage  of  weapons,  and  abide 
the  result." 

-'  Your  challenge  would  be  soon  answered,"  replied  the 
Palmer,  "  were  your  antagonist  near  you.  As  the  matter 
is,  disturb  not  the  peaceful  hall  with  vaunts  of  the  issue 
of  a  conflict  which  you  well  know  cannot  take  place.  If 
Ivanhoe  ever  returns  from  Palestine,  I  will  be  his  surety 
that  he  meets  you." 

"  A  goodly  security  !  "  said  the  Knight  Templar ;  "  and 
what  do  you  proffer  as  a  pledge  ?  " 

"  This   reliquary,"    said  the   Palmer,   taking   a  smal.1 


48  1VANH0E. 

ivory  box  from  his  bosom,  and  crossing  himself,  "con- 
taining a  portion  of  the  true  cross,  brought  from  the 
Monastery  of  Mount  Carinel." 

The  Prior  of  Jorvaulx  crossed  himself  and  repeated  a 
pater  noster,  in  which  all  devoutly  joined,  excepting  the 
Jew,  the  Mahomedans,  and  the  Templar ;  the  latter  of 
whom,  without  vailing  his  bonnet  or  testifying  any  rever- 
ence for  the  alleged  sanctity  of  the  relic,  took  from  his 
neck  a  gold  chain,  which  he  flung  on  the  board,  saying, 
"  Let  Prior  Aymer  hold  my  pledge  and  that  of  this  name- 
less vagrant,  in  token  that,  when  the  Knight  of  Ivanhoe 
comes  within  the  four  seas  of  Britain,  he  underlies  the 
challenge  of  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  which,  if  he  answers 
not,  I  will  proclaim  him  as  a  coward  on  the  walls  of  every 
Temple  Court  in  Europe." 

"It  will  not  need,"  said  the  Lady  Rowena,  breaking 
silence  :  "  my  voice  shall  be  heard,  if  no  other  in  this  hall 
is  raised,  in  behalf  of  the  absent  Ivanhoe.  I  affirm  he 
will  meet  fairly  every  honourable  challenge.  Could  my 
weak  warrant  add  security  to  the  inestimable  pledge  of 
this  holy  pilgrim,  I  would  pledge  name  and  fame  that 
Ivanhoe  gives  this  proud  knight  the  meeting  he  desires." 

A  crowd  of  conflicting  emotions  seemed  to  have  occu- 
pied Cedric  and  kept  him  silent  during  this  discussion. 
Gratified  pride,  resentment,  embarrassment,  chased  each 
other  over  his  broad  and  open  brow,  like  the  shadow  of 
clouds  drifting  over  a  harvest-field ;  while  his  attendants, 
on  whom  the  name  of  the  sixth  knight  seemed  to  produce 
an  effect  almost  electrical,  hung  in  suspense  upon  their 
master's  looks.  But  when  Rowena  spoke,  the  sound  of 
her  voice  seemed  to  startle  him  from  his  silence. 

"Lady,"  said  Cedric,  "this  beseems  not;  were  further 
pledge  necessary,  I  myself,  offended,  and  justly  offended, 
as  I  am,  would  yet  gage  my  honour  for  the  honour  of 
Ivanhoe.  But  the  wager  of  battle  is  complete,  even 
according  to  the  fantastic  fashions  of  Norman  chivalry. 
—  Is  it  not,  Father  Aymer  ?  " 

"It  is,"  replied  the  Prior;  "and  the  blessed  relic  and 
rich  chain  will  I  bestow  safely  in  the  treasury  of  our 
convent,  until  the  decision  of  this  warlike  challenge." 


IV AN  HOE.  49 

Having  thus  spoken,  he  crossed  himself  again  and 
again,  and  after  many  genuflections  and  muttered  prayers, 
he  delivered  the  reliquary  to  Brother  Ambrose,  his  at- 
tendant monk,  while  he  himself  swept  up  with  less  cere- 
mony, but  perhaps  with  no  less  internal  satisfaction,  the 
golden  chain,  and  bestowed  it  in  a  pouch  lined  with  per- 
fumed leather,  which  opened  under  his  arm.  "  And  now, 
Sir  Cedric,"  he  said,  "  my  ears  are  chiming  vespers  with 
the  strength  of  your  good  wine,  —  permit  us  another 
pledge  to  the  welfare  of  the  Lady  Rowena,  and  indulge  us 
with  liberty  to  pass  to  our  repose." 

"  By  the  rood  of  Bromholme,"  said  the  Saxon, "  you  do 
but  small  credit  to  your  fame,  Sir  Prior !  Report  speaks 
you  a  bonny  monk,  that  would  hear  the  matin  chime  ere 
he  quitted  his  bowl ;  and,  old  as  I  am,  I  feared  to  have 
shame  in  encountering  you.  But,  by  my  faith,  a  Saxon 
boy  of  twelve,  in  my  time,  would  not  so  soon  have  relin- 
quished his  goblet." 

The  Prior  had  his  own  reasons,  however,  for  persever- 
ing in  the  course  of  temperance  which  he  had  adopted. 
He  was  not  only  a  professional  peacemaker,  but  from 
practice  a  hater  of  all  feuds  and  brawls.  It  was  not 
altogether  from  a  love  to  his  neighbour,  or  to  himself,  or 
from  a  mixture  of  both.  On  the  present  occasion,  he  had 
an  instinctive  apprehension  of  the  fiery  temper  of  the 
Saxon,  and  saw  the  danger  that  the  reckless  and  pre- 
sumptuous spirit  of  which  his  companion  had  already 
given  so  many  proofs,  might  at  length  produce  some  dis- 
agreeable explosion.  He  therefore  gently  insinuated  the 
incapacity  of  the  native  of  any  other  country  to  engage 
in  the  genial  conflict  of  the  bowl  with  the  hardy  and 
strong-headed  Saxons ;  something  he  mentioned,  but 
slightly,  about  his  own  holy  character,  and  ended  by 
pressing  his  proposal  to  depart  to  repose. 

The  grace-cup  was  accordingly  served  round,  and  the 
guests,  after  making  deep  obeisance  to  their  landlord  and 
to  the  Lady  Rowena,  arose  and  mingled  in  the  hall,  while 
the  heads  of  the  family,  by  separate  doors,  retired  with 
their  attendants. 

"  Unbelieving  dog,"  said  the  Templar  to  Isaac  the  Jew, 

B 


50  IVANHOE. 

as  he  passed  him  in  the  throng,  "dost  thou  bend  thy 
course  to  the  tournament  ?  " 

"  I  do  so  propose,"  replied  Isaac,  bowing  in  all  humil- 
ity, "if  it  please  your  reverend  valour."  .c-v7^ 

"Ay,"  said  the  Knight,  "to  gnaw  the  bowels  of  our 
nobles  with  usury,  and  to  gull  women  and  boys  with 
gauds  and  toys  —  I  warrant  thee  store  of  shekels  in  thy 
Jewish  scrip." 

"  Not  a  shekel,  not  a  silver  penny,  not  a  halfling,  —  so 
help  me  the  God  of  Abraham ! "  said  the  Jew,  clasping 
his  hands.  "I  go  but  to  seek  the  assistance  of  some 
brethren  of  my  tribe  to  aid  me  to  pay  the  fine  which  the 
Exchequer  of  the  Jews  have  imposed  upon  me,  Father 
Jacob  be  my  speed !  I  am  an  impoverished  wretch  — 
the  very  gaberdine  I  wear  is  borrowed  from  Reuben  of 
Tadcaster." 

The  Templar  smiled  sourly  as  he  replied,  "Beshrew 
thee  for  a  false-hearted  liar ! "  and  passing  onward,  as  if 
disdaining  farther  conference,  he  communed  with  his 
Moslem  slaves  in  a  language  unknown  to  the  bystanders. 
The  poor  Israelite  seemed  so  staggered  by  the  address  of 
the  military  monk,  that  the  Templar  had  passed  on  to  the 
extremity  of  the  hall  ere  he  raised  his  head  from  the 
humble  posture  which  he  had  assumed,  so  far  as  to  be 
sensible  of  his  departure.  And  when  he  did  look  around, 
it  was  with  the  astonished  air  of  one  at  whose  feet  a 
thunderbolt  has  just  ,burst,  and  who  hears  still  the 
astounding  report  ringing  in  his  ears. 

The  Templar  and  Prior  were  shortly  after  marshalled 
to  their  sleeping  apartments  by  the  steward  and  the  cup- 
bearer, each  attended  by  two  torch-bearers  and  two  ser- 
vants carrying  refreshments,  while  servants  of  inferior 
condition  indicated  to  their  retinue  and  to  the  other 
guests  their  respective  places  of  repose. 


IVANHOE.  51 


CHAPTER  VI. 

To  buy  his  favour  I  extend  this  friendship  •. 

If  he  will  take  it,  so  ;  if  not,  adieu  ; 

And,  for  my  love,  I  pray  you  wrong  me  not. 

Merchant  of  Venice. 

As  the  Palmer,  lighted  by  a  domestic  with  a  torch, 
passed  through  the  intricate  combination  of  apartments 
of  this  large  and  irregular  mansion,  the  cupbearer,  coming 
behind  him,  whispered  in  his  ear,  that  if  he  had  no  objec- 
tion to  a  cup  of  good  mead  in  his  apartment,  there  were 
many  domestics  in  that  family  who  would  gladly  hear  the 
news  he  had  brought  from  the  Holy  Land,  and  particu- 
larly that  which  concerned  the  Knight  of  Ivanhoe. 
Wamba  presently  appeared  to  urge  the  same  request, 
observing  that  a  cup  after  midnight  was  worth  three  after 
curfew.  Without  disputing  a  maxim  urged  by  such  grave 
authority,  the  Palmer  thanked  them  for  their  courtesy, 
but  observed  that  he  had  included  in  his  religious  vow  an 
obligation  never  to  speak  in  the  kitchen  on  matters  which 
were  prohibited  in  the  hall. 

"  That  vow,"  said  Wamba  to  the  cupbearer,  "  would 
scarce  suit  a  serving-man." 

The  cupbearer  shrugged  up  his  shoulders  in  displeasure. 
"  I  thought  to  have  lodged  him  in  the  solere  chamber," 
said  he ;  "  but  since  he  is  so  unsocial  to  Christians,  e'en 
let  him  take  the  next  stall  to  Isaac  the  Jew's.  —  Anwold," 
said  he  to  the  torch-bearer,  "  carry  the  Pilgrim  to  the 
southern  cell.  —  I  give  you  good  night,"  he  added,  "  Sir 
Palmer,  with  small  thanks  for  short  courtesy." 

"  Good  night,  and  Our  Lady's  benison ! "  said  the 
Palmer,  with  composure ;  and  his  guide  moved  forward. 

In  a  small  ante-chamber,  into  which  several  doors 
opened,  and  which  was  lighted  by  a  small  iron  lamp,  they 
met  a  second  interruption  from  the  waiting-maid  of 
Rowena,  who,  saying  in  a  tone  of  authority  that  her  mis- 
tress desired  to  speak  with  the  Palmer,  took  the  torch 
from  the  hand  of  Anwold,  and  bidding  him  await  her 


52  IVANHOE. 

return,  made  a  sign  to  the  Palmer  to  follow.  Apparently 
he  did  not  think  it  proper  to  decline  this  invitation  as  he 
had  done  the  former;  for,  though  his  gesture  indicated 
some  surprise  at  the  summons,  he  obeyed  it  without 
answer  or  remonstrance. 

A  short  passage,  and  an  ascent  of  seven  steps,  each  of 
which  was  composed  of  a  solid  beam  of  oak,  led  him  to 
the  apartment  of  the  Lady  Rowena,  the  rude  magnifi- 
cence of  which  corresponded  to  the  respect  which  was 
paid  to  her  by  the  lord  of  the  mansion.  The  walls  were 
covered  with  embroidered  hangings,  on  which  different- 
coloured  silks,  interwoven  with  gold  and  silver  threads, 
had  been  employed,  with  all  the  art  of  which  the  age 
was  capable,  to  represent  the  sports  of  hunting  and 
hawking.  The  bed  was  adorned  with  the  same  rich  tap- 
estry, and  surrounded  with  curtains  dyed  with  purple. 
The  seats  had  also  their  stained  coverings,  and  one, 
which  was  higher  than  the  rest,  was  accommodated  with 
a  footstool  of  ivory,  curiously  carved. 

No  fewer  than  four  silver  candelabras,  holding  great 
waxen  torches,  served  to  illuminate  this  apartment.  Yet 
let  not  modern  beauty  envy  the  magnificence  of  a  Saxon 
princess.  The  walls  of  the  apartment  were  so  ill-finished 
and  so  full  of  crevices,  that  the  rich  hangings  shook  to 
the  night  blast,  and,  in  despite  of  a  sort  of  screen  in- 
tended to  protect  them  from  the  wind,  the  flame  of  the 
torches  streamed  sideways  into  the  air,  like  the  unfurled 
pennon  of  a  chieftain.  Magnificence  there  was,  with 
some  rude  attempt  at  taste ;  but  of  comfort  there  was 
little,  and,  being  unknown,  it  was  unmissed. 

The  Lady  Rowena,  with  three  of  her  attendants  stand- 
ing at  her  back,  and  arranging  her  hair  ere  she  lay  down  to 
rest,  was  seated  in  the  sort  of  throne  already  mentioned, 
and  looked  as  if  born  to  exact  general  homage.  The  Pil- 
grim acknowledged  her  claim  to  it  by  a  low  genuflection. 

"Rise,  Palmer,"  said  she,  graciously.  "The  defender 
of  the  absent  has  a  right  to  favourable  reception  from  all 
who  value  truth  and  honour  manhood."  She  then  said 
to  her  train,  "  Retire,  excepting  only  Elgitha ;  I  would 
speak  with  this  holy  Pilgrim." 


T  taoio  little  of-  tn< 


'{pjcsr      °^  Jy<anko&-^'    anaosfcrcS    t1>e.     k>a/rt\or 


IVANHOE.  53 

The  maidens,  without  leaving  the  apartment,  retired 
to  its  further  extremity,  and  sat  down  on  a  small  bench 
against  the  wall,  where  they  remained  mute  as  statues, 
though  at  such  a  distance  that  their  whispers  could  not 
have  interrupted  the  conversation  of  their  mistress. 

"Pilgrim,"  said  the  lady,  after  a  moment's  pause,  dur- 
ing which  she  seemed  uncertain  how  to  address  him, 
"  you  this  night  mentioned  a  name  —  I  mean,"  she  said, 
with  a  degree  of  effort,  "  the  name  of  Ivanhoe  —  in  the 
halls  where  by  nature  and  kindred  it  should  have  sounded 
most  acceptably  ;  aud  yet  such  is  the  perverse  course  of 
fate,  that  of  many  whose  hearts  must  have  throbbed  at 
the  sound,  I  only  dare  ask  you  where,  and  in  what  con- 
dition, you  left  him  of  whom  you  spoke  ?  —  We  heard 
that,  having  remained  in  Palestine,  on  account  of  his 
f  ^impaired  health,  after  the  departure  of  the  English  army, 
he  had  experienced  the  persecution  of  the  French  faction, 
to  whom  the  Templars  aTe^known  to  be  attached." 

"  I  know  little  of  the  Knight  of  Ivanhoe,"  answered 
the  Palmer,  with  a  troubled  voice.  "  I  would  I  knew 
him  better,  since  you,  lady,  are  interested  in  his  fate. 
He  hath,  I  believe,  surmounted  the  persecution  of  his 
enemies  in  Palestine,  and  is  on  the  eve  of  returning  to 
England,  where  you,  lady,  must  know  better  than  I  what 
is  his  chance  of  happiness." 

The  Lady  Rowena  sighed  deeply,  and  asked  more  par- 
ticularly when  the  Knight  of  Ivanhoe  might  be  expected 
in  his  native  country,  and  whether  he  would  not  be 
exposed  to  great  dangers  by  the  road.  On  the  first 
point,  the  Palmer  professed  ignorance ;  on  the  second,  he 
said  that  the  voyage  might  be  safely  made  by  the  way 
of  Venice  and  Genoa,  and  from  thence  through  France  to 
England.  "Ivanhoe,"  he  said,  "was  so  well  acquainted 
with  the  language  and  manners  of  the  French,  that  there 
was  no  fear  of  his  incurring  any  hazard  during  that  part 
of  his  travels." 

"Would  to  God,"  said  the  Lady  Rowena,  "he  were 
here  safely  arrived,  and  able  to  bear  arms  in  the  ap- 
proaching tourney,  in  which  the  chivalry  of  this  land  are 
expected  to  display  their  address  and  valour.     Should 


> 


54  IVANHOE. 

Athelstane  of  Coningsburgh  obtain  the  prize,  Ivanhoe  is 
like  to  hear  evil  tidings  when  he  reaches  England.  — 
How  looked  he,  stranger,  when  you  last  saw  him  ?  Had 
disease  laid  her  hand  heavy  upon  his  strength  and 
comeliness  ?  " 

"He  was  darker,"  said  the  Palmer,  "  and  thinner  than 
when  he  came  from  Cyprus  in  the  train  of  Coeur-de-Lion, 
and  care  seemed  to  sit  heavy  on  his  brow ;  but  I  ap- 
proached not  his  presence,  because  he  is  unknown  to  me." 
'"He  will,"  said  the  lady,  "I  fear,  find  little  in  his 
native  land  to  clear  those  clouds  from  his  countenance. 
Thanks,  good  Pilgrim,  for  your  information  concerning 
the  companion  of  my  childhood.  —  Maidens,"  she  said, 
"  draw  near  —  offer  the  sleeping-cup  to  this  holy  man, 
whom  I  will  no  longer  detain  from  repose." 

One  of  the  maidens  presented  a  silver  cup  containing 
a  rich  mixture  of  wine  and  spice,  which  Rowena  barely 
put  to  her  lips.     It  was  then  offered  to  the  Palmer,  who,    • 
after  a  low  obeisance,  tasted  a  few  drops. 

"  Accept  this  alms,  friend,"  continued  the  lady,  offer- 
ing a  piece  of  gold,  "  in  acknowledgment  of  thy  painful 
travail,  and  of  the  shrines  thou  hast  visited." 

The  Palmer  received  the  boon  with  another  low  rever- 
ence, and  followed  Elgitha  out  of  the  apartment. 

In  the  ante-room  he  found  his  attendant  Anwold,  who, 
taking  the  torch  from  the  hand  of  the  waiting-maid,  con- 
ducted him  with  more  haste  than  ceremony  to  an  exterior 
and  ignoble  part  of  the  building,  where  a  number  of 
small  apartments,  or  rather  cells,  served  for  sleeping- 
places  to  the  lower  order  of  domestics,  and  to  strangers 
of  mean  degree. 

"In  which  of  these  sleeps  the  Jew?"  said  the  Pilgrim. 

"  The  unbelieving  dog,"  answereo^  Anjs^l^-i'  kennels 
in  the  cell  next  your  holiness.  —  St.  Dunstan,  how  it 
must  be  scraped  and  cleansed  ere  it  be  again  tit  for  a 
Christian  ! " 

"  And  where  sleeps  Gurth,  the  swineherd  ?  "  said  the 
stranger. 

"  (riirth,"  replied  the  bondsman,  "  sleeps  in  the  cell  on 
your  right,  as  the  Jew  in  that  to  your  left ;  you  serve  to 


IVANHOE.  55 

keep  the  child  of  circumcision  separate  from  the  abomi- 
nation of  his  tribe.  You  might  have  occupied  a  more 
honourable  place  _  had  you  accepted  of  Oswald's  invita- 
tion." 

"  It  is  as  well  as1,  it  is,"  said  the  Palmer ;  "  the  com- 
pany, even  of  a  Jew,  can  hardly  spread  contamination 
through  an  oaken  partition." 

So  saying,  he  entered  the  cabin  allotted  to  him,  and 
taking  the  torch  from  the  domestic's  hand,  thanked  him 
and  wished  him  good  night.  Having  shut  the  door  of 
his  cell,  he  placed  the  torch  in  a  candlestick  made  of 
wood,  and  looked  around  his  sleeping  apartment,  the 
furniture  of  which  was  of  the  most  simple  kind.  It  con- 
sisted of  a  rude  wooden  stool,  and  still  ruder  hutch  or 
bed-frame,  stuffed  with  clean  straw,  and  accommodated 
with  two  or  three  sheepskins  by  way  of  bed-clothes. 

The  Palmer,  having  extinguished  his  torch,  threw 
himself,  without  taking  off  any  part  of  his  clothes,  on 
this  rude  couch,  and  slept,  or  at  least  retained  his  recum- 
bent posture,  till  the  earliest  sunbeams  found  their  way 
through  the  little  grated  window,  which  served  at  once 
to  admit  both  air  and  light  to  his  uncomfortable  cell. 
He  then  started  up,  and  after  repeating  his  matins  and 
adjusting  his  dress,  he  left  it,  and  entered  that  of  Isaac 
the  Jew,  lifting  the  latch  as  gently  as  he  could. 

The  inmate  was  lying  in  troubled  slumber  upon  a 
couch  similar  to  that  on  which  the  Palmer  himself  had 
passed  the  night.  Such  parts  of  his  dress  as  the  Jew 
had  laid  aside  on  the  preceding  evening  were  disposed 
carefully  around  his  person,  as  if  to  prevent  the  hazard 
of  their  being  carried  off  during  his  slumbers.  There  was 
a  trouble  on  his  brow  amounting  almost  to  agony.  His 
lands  and  arms  moved  convulsively,  as  if  struggling 
\with  the  nightmare ;  and  besides  several  ejaculations  in 
'rHebrew,  the  following  were  distinctly  heard  in  the  Nor- 
man-English, or  mixed  language  of  the  country :  "  For 
the  sake  of  the  God  of  Abraham,  spare  an  unhappy  old 
man !  I  am  poor,  I  am  penniless ;  should  your  irons 
^{ wrench  my  limbs  asunder,  I  could  not  gratify  you  !  " 

The  Palmer  awaited  not  the  end  of  the  Jew's  vision. 


56  IVANHOE. 

but  stirred  him  with  his  pilgrim's  staff.  The  touch  prob- 
ably associated,  as  is  usual,  with  some  of  the  apprehen- 
sions excited  by  his  dream ;  for  the  old  man  started  up, 
his  grey  hair  standing  almost  erect  upon  his  head,  and 
huddling  some  part  of  his  garments  about  him,  while  he 
held  the  detached  pieces  with  the  tenacious  grasp  of  a 
falcon,  he  fixed  upon  the  Palmer  his  keen  black  eyes,  ex- 
pressive of  wild  surprise  and  of  bodily  apprehension. 

"  Fear  nothing  from  me,  Isaac,"  said  the  Palmer,  "  I 
come  as  your  friend." 

"  The  God  of  Israel  requite  you,"  said  the  Jew,  greatly 
relieved ;  "  I  dreamed  —  but  Father  Abraham  be  praised, 
it  was  but  a  dream  !  "  Then,  collecting  himself,  he  added 
in  his  usual  tone,  "And  what  may  it  be  your  pleasure  to 
want  at  so  early  an  hour  with  the  poor  Jew  ?  ' 

"It  is  to  tell  you,"  said  the  Palmer,  "that  if  you  leave 
not  this  mansion  instantly,  and  travel  not  with  some 
haste,  your  journey  may  prove  a  dangerous  one." 

"  Holy  father !  "  said  the  Jew,  "  whom  could  it  interest 
to  endanger  so  poor  a  wretch  as  I  am  ?  " 

"  The  purpose  you  can  best  guess,"  said  the  Pilgrim ; 
"  but  rely  on  this,  that  when  the  Templar  crossed  the  hall 
yesternight,  he  spoke  to  his  Mussulman  slaves  in  the  Sara- 
cen language,  which  I  well  understand,  and  charged  them 
this  morning  to  watch  the  journey  of  the  Jew,  to  seize  upon 
him  when  at  a  convenient  distance  from  the  mansion,  and 
to  conduct  him  to  the  castle  of  Philip  de  Malvoisin  or  to 
that  of  Reginald  Front-de-Bceuf." 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  extremity  of  terror 
which  seized  upon  the  Jew  at  this  information,  and  seemed 
at  once  to  overpower  his  whole  faculties.  His  arms  fell 
down  to  his  sides,  and  his  head  drooped  on  his  breast,  his 
knees  bent  under  his  weight,  every  nerve  and  muscle  of 
his  frame  seemed  to  collapse  and  lose  its  energy,  and  he 
sunk  at  the  foot  of  the  Palmer,  not  in  the  fashion  of  one 
who  intentionally  stoops,  kneels,  or  prostrates  himself  to 
excite  compassion,  but  like  a  man  borne  down  on  all  sides 
by  the  pressure  of  some  invisible  force,  which  crashes  him 
to  the  earth  without  the  power  of  resistance. 

"  Holy  God  of  Abraham ! "  was  his  first  exclamation, 


IVANHOE.  57 

folding  and  elevating  his  wrinkled  hands,  but  without 
raising  his  grey  head  from  the  pavement ;  "  0  holy  Moses  ! 
0  blessed  Aaron !  the  dream  is  not  dreamed  for  nought, 
and  the  vision  cometh  not  in  vain  !  I  feel  their  irons 
already  tear  my  sinews !  I  feel  the  rack  pass  over  my 
body  like  the  saws,  and  harrows,  and  axes  of  iron  over 
the  men  of  Kabbah,  and  of  the  cities  of  the  children  of 
Ammon ! " 

"  Stand  up,  Isaac,  and  harken  to  me,"  said  the  Palmer, 
who  viewed  the  extremity  of  his  distress  with  a  compas- 
sion in  which  contempt  was  largely  mingled ;  "  you  have 
cause  for  your  terror,  considering  how  your  brethren  have 
been  used,  in  order  to  extort  from  them  their  hoards,  both 
by  princes  and  nobles;  but  stand  up,  I  say,  and  I  will 
point  out  to  you  the  means  of  escape.  Leave  this  man- 
sion instantly,  while  its  inmates  sleep  sound  after  the 
last  night's  revel.  I  will  guide  you  by  the  secret  paths 
of  the  forest,  known  as  well  to  me  as  to  any  forester  that 
ranges  it,  and  I  will  not  leave  you  till  you  are  under  safe 
conduct  of  some  chief  or  baron  going  to  the  tournament, 
whose  good-will  you  have  probably  the  means  of  securing." 

As  the  ears  of  Isaac  received  the  hopes  of  escape  which 
this  speech  intimated,  he  began  gradually,  and  inch  by 
inch,  as  it  were,  to  raise  himself  up  from  the  ground, 
until  he  fairly  rested  upon  his  knees,  throwing  back  his 
long  grey  hair  and  beard,  and  fixing  his  keen  black 
eyes  upon  the  Palmer's  face,  with  a  look  expressive  at 
once  of  hope  and  fear,  not  unmingled  with  suspicion. 
But  when  he  heard  the  concluding  part  of  the  sentence, 
his  original  terror  appeared  to  jevive  in  full  force,  and 
he  dropt  once  more  on  his  face,  exclaiming,  "  /  possess 
•the  means  of  securing  good- will !  Alas  !  there  is  but  one 
road  to  the  favour  of  a  Christian,  and  how  can  the  poor 
Jew  find  it,  whom  extortions  have  already  reduced  to  the 
misery  of  Lazarus  ? "  Then,  as  if  suspicion  had  over- 
powered his  other  feelings,  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  For 
the  love  of  God,  young  man,  betray  me  not  —  for  the 
sake  of  the  Great  Father  who  made  us  all,  Jew  as  well 
as  Gentile,  Israelite  and  Ishmaelite,  do  me  no  treason !  1 
have  not  means  to  secure  the  good-will  of  a  Christian 


r> 


58  IVANHOE. 

beggar,  were  he  rating  it  at  a  single  penny."  As  he 
spoke  these  last  words,  he  raised  himself  and  grasped 
the  Palmer's  mantle  with  a  look  of  the  most  earnest 
entreaty.  The  Pilgrim  extricated  himself,  as  if  there 
were  contamination  in  the  touch. 

"  Wert  thou  loaded  with  all  the  wealth  of  thy  tribe," 
he  said,  "what  interest  have  I  to  injure  thee?  —  In  this 
dress  I  am  vowed  to  poverty,  nor  do  I  change  it  for  aught 
save  a  horse  and  a  coat  of  mail.  Yet  think  not  that  I  care 
for  thy  company,  or  propose  myself  advantage  by  it; 
remain  here  if  thou  wilt  —  Cedric  the  Saxon  may  protect 
thee." 

"  Alas  ! "  said  the  Jew,  "  he  will  not  let  me  travel  in 
his  train  —  Saxon  or  Norman  will  be  equally  ashamed  of 
the  poor  Israelite ;  and  to  travel  by  myself  through  the 
domains  of  Philip  de  Malvoisin  and  Reginald  Front-de- 
Boeuf  —  Good  youth,  I  will  go  with  you !  Let  us 
haste  —  let  us  gird  up  our  loins  —  let  us  flee  !  — -  Here  is 
thy  staff,  why  wilt  thou  tarry  ?  " 

"  I  tarry  not,"  said  the  Pilgrim,  giving  way  to  the  ur- 
gency of  his  companion ;  "  but  I  must  secure  the  means  of 
leaving  this  place ;  follow  me." 

He  led  the  way  to  the  adjoining  cell,  which,  as  the 
reader  is  apprised,  was  occupied  by  Gurth,  the  swineherd. 
"  Arise,  Gurth,"  said  the  Pilgrim,  "  arise  quickly.  Undo 
the  postern  gate,  and  let  out  the  Jew  and  me." 

Gurth,  whose  occupation,  though  now  held  so  mean, 
gave  him  as  much  consequence  in  Saxon  England  as  that 
of  Eumseus  in  Ithaca,  was  offended  at  the  familiar  and 
commanding  tone  assumed  by  the  Palmer.  "  The  Jew 
leaving  Rotherwood,"  said  he,  raising  himself  on  his  elbow 
and  looking  superciliously  at  him,  without  quitting  his 
pallet,  "  and  travelling  in  company  with  the  Palmer  to 
boot  —  " 

"  I  should  as  soon  have  dreamt,"  said  Wamba,  who 
entered  the  apartment  at  the  instant,  "  of  his  stealing  away 
with  a  gammon  of  bacon." 

"  Nevertheless,"  said  Gurth,  again  laying  down  his  head 
on  the  wooden  log  which  served  him  for  a  pillow,  "  both 
Jew  and  Gentile  must  be  content  to  abide  the  opening  of 


IVANHOE.  59 

the  great  gate  —  we  suffer  no  visitors  to  depart  by  stealth 
at  these  unseasonable  hours." 

"Nevertheless,"  said  the  Pilgrim,  in  a  commanding 
tone,  "you  will  not,  I  think,  refuse  me  that  favour." 

So  saying,  he  stooped  over  the  bed  of  the  recumbent 
swineherd,  and  whispered  something  in  his  ear  in  Saxon. 
Gurth  started  up  as  if  electrified.  The  Pilgrim,  raising 
his  finger  in  an  attitude  as  if  to  express  caution,  added, 
"  Gurth,  beware ;  thou  art  wont  to  be  prudent.  I  say, 
undo  the  postern  ;  thou  shalt  know  more  anon." 

With  hasty  alacrity  Gurth  obeyed  him,  while  Wamba 
and  the  Jew  followed,  both  wondering  at  the  sudden 
change  in  the  swineherd's  demeanour. 

"  My  mule,  my  mule !  "  said  the  Jew,  as  soon  as  they 
stood  without  the  postern. 

"  Fetch  him  his  mule,"  said  the  Pilgrim  ;  "  and,  nearest 
thou,  let  me  have  another  that  I  may  bear  him  company 
till  he  is  beyond  these  parts.  I  will  return  it  safely  to 
some  of  Cedric's  train  at  Ashby.  And  do  thou  — "  he 
whispered  the  rest  in  Gurth's  ear. 

"  Willingly,  most  willingly  shall  it  be  done,"  said 
Gurth,  and  instantly  departed  to  execute  the  commission. 

"  I  wish  I  knew,"  said  WTamba,  when  his  comrade's 
back  was  turned,  "  what  you  Palmers  learn  in  the  Holy 
Land." 

"To  say  our  orisons,  fool,"  answered  the  Pilgrim,  "to 
repent  our  sins,  and  to  mortify  ourselves  with  fastings, 
vigils,  and  long  prayers." 

"  Something  more  potent  than  that,"  answered  the 
Jester;  "for  when  would  repentance  or  prayer  make 
Gurth  do  a  courtesy,  or  fasting  or  vigil  persuade  him  to 
lend  you  a  mule  ?  I  trow  you  might  as  well  have  told 
his  favourite  black  boar  of  thy  vigils  and  penance,  and 
wouldst  have  gotten  as  civil  an  answer." 

"  Go  to,"  said  the  Pilgrim,  "  thou  art  but  a  Saxon  fool." 

"Thou  sayst  well,"  said  the  Jester;  "had  I  been  born 
a  Norman,  as  I  think  thou  art,  I  would  have  had  luck  on 
my  side,  and  been  next  door  to  a  wise  man." 

At  this  moment*  Gurth  appeared  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  moat  with  the  mules.     The  travellers  crossed  the 


60  IVANHOE. 

ditch  upon  a  drawbridge  of  only  two  planks'  breadth,  the 
narrowness  of  which  was  matched  with  the  straitness  of 
the  postern,  and  with  a  little  wicket  in  the  exterior  pali- 
sade, which  gave  access  to  the  forest.  No  sooner  had 
they  reached  the  mules,  than  the  Jew,  with  hasty  and 
trembling  hands,  secured  behind  the  saddle  a  small  bag  of 
blue  buckram,  which  he  took  from  under  his  cloak,  con- 
taining, as  he  muttered,  "  a  change  of  raiment  —  only  a 
change  of  raiment."  Then  getting  upon  the  animal  with 
more  alacrity  and  haste  than  could  have  been  anticipated 
from  his  years,  he  lost  no  time  in  so  disposing  of  the 
skirts  of  his  gaberdine  as  to  conceal  completely  from 
observation  the  burden  which  he  had  thus  deposited 
en  croupe. 

The  Pilgrim  mounted  with  more  deliberation,  reaching, 
as  he  departed,  his  hand  to  Gurth,  who  kissed  it  with  the 
utmost  possible  veneration.  The  swineherd  stood  gazing 
after  the  travellers  until  they  were  lost  under  the  boughs 
of  the  forest  path,  when  he  was  disturbed  from  his  reverie 
by  the  voice  of  Wamba. 

"Knowest  thou,"  said  the  Jester,  "my  good  friend 
Gurth,  that  thou  art  strangely  courteous  and  most  un- 
wontedly  pious  on  this  summer  morning  ?  I  would  I 
were  a  black  prior  or  a  barefoot  palmer,  to  avail  myself 
of  thy  unwonted  zeal  and  courtesy ;  certes,  I  would  make 
more  out  of  it  than  a  kiss  of  the  hand." 

"  Thou  art  no  fool  thus  far,  Wamba,"  answered  Gurth, 
"  though  thou  arguest  from  appearances,  and  the  wisest 
of  us  can  do  no  more.  —  But  it  is  time  to  look  after  my 
charge." 

So  saying,  he  turned  back  to  the  mansion,  attended  by 
the  Jester. 

Meanwhile  the  travellers  continued  to  press  on  their 
journey  with  a  dispatch  which  argued  the  extremity  of 
the  Jew's  fears,  since  persons  at  his  age  are  seldom  fond 
of  rapid  motion.  The  Palmer,  to  whom  every  path  and 
outlet  in  the  wood  appeared  to  be  familiar,  led  the  way 
through  the  most  devious  paths,  and  more  than  once 
excited  anew  the  suspicion  of  the  Israelite  that  he  in- 
tended to  betray  him  into  some  ambuscade  of  his  enemies. 


I  VAN  HOE.  61 

■ 

His  doubts  might  have  been  indeed  pardoned ;  for, 
except  perhaps  the  flying  fish,  there  was  no  race  existing 
on  the  earth,  in  the  air,  or  the  waters,  who  were  the  object 
of  such  an  unintermitting,  general,  and  relentless  perse- 
cution as  the  Jews  of  this  period.  Upon  the  slightest 
and  most  unreasonable  pretences,  as  well  as  upon  accusa- 
tions the  most  absurd  and  groundless,  their  persons  and 
property  were  exposed  to  every  turn  of  popular  fury  ;  for 
Norman,  Saxon,  Dane,  and  Briton,  however  adverse  these 
races  were  to  each  other,  contended  which  should  look 
with  greatest  detestation  upon  a  people  whom  it  was 
accounted  a  point  of  religion  to  hate,  to  revile,  to  despise, 
to  plunder,  and  to  persecute.  The  kings  of  the  Norman 
race,  and  the  independent  nobles,  who  followed  their 
example  in  all  acts  of  tyranny,  maintained  against  this 
devoted  people  a  persecution  of  a  more  regular,  calculated, 
and  self-interested  kind.  It  is  a  well-known  story  of 
King  John,  that  he  confined  a  wealthy  Jew  in  one  of  the 
royal  castles,  and  daily  caused  one  of  his  teeth  to  be  torn 
out,  until,  when  the  jaw  of  the  unhappy  Israelite  was 
half  disf  urnished,  he  consented  to  pay  a  large  sum,  which 
it  was  the  tyrant's  object  to  extort  from  him.  The  little 
ready  money  which  was  in  the  country  was  chiefly  in 
possession  of  this  persecuted  people,  and  the  nobility 
hesitated  not  to  follow  the  example  of  their  sovereign  in 
wringing  it  from  them  by  every  species  of  oppression, 
and  even  personal  torture.  Yet  the  passive  courage  in- 
spired by  the  love  of  gain  induced  the  Jews  to  dare  the 
various  evils  to  which  they  were  subjected,  in  considera- 
tion of  the  immense  profits  which  they  were  enabled  to 
realise  in  a  country  naturally  so  wealthy  as  England.  In 
spite  of  every  kind  of  discouragement,  and  even  of  the 
special  court  of  taxations  already  mentioned,  called  the 
Jews'  Exchequer,  erected  for  the  very  purpose  of  despoil- 
ing and  distressing  them,  the  Jews  increased,  multiplied, 
and  accumulated  huge  sums,  which  they  transferred  from 
one  hand  to  another  by  means  of  bills  of  exchange  —  an 
invention  for  which  commerce  is  said  to  be  indebted  to 
them,  and  which  enabled  them  to  transfer  their  wealth 
from  land  to  land,  that,  when  threatened  with  oppression 


62  IVANHOE. 

in  one  country,  their  treasure  might  be  secured  in  an- 
other. 

The  obstinacy  and  avarice  of  the  Jews,  being  thus  in  a 
measure  placed  in  opposition  to  the  fanaticism  and  tyranny 
of  those  under  whom  they  lived,  seemed  to  increase  in 
proportion  to  the  persecution  with  which  they  were 
visited ;  and  the  immense  wealth  they  usually  acquired 
in  commerce,  while  it  frequently  placed  them  in  danger, 
was  at  other  times  used  to  extend  their  influence,  and  to 
secure  to  them  a  certain  degree  of  protection.  On  these 
terms  they  lived ;  and  their  character,  influenced  accord- 
ingly, was  watchful,  suspicious,  and  timid  —  yet  obstinate, 
uncomplying,  and  skilful  in  evading  the  dangers  to  which 
they  were  exposed. 

When  the  travellers  had  pushed  on  at  a  rapid  rate 
through  many  devious  paths,  the  Palmer  at  length  broke 
silence. 

"That  large  decayed  oak,"  he  said,  "  marks  the  bounda- 
ries over  which  Front-de-Boeuf  claims  authority ;  we  are 
loner  since  far  from  those  of  Malvoisin.  There  is  now  no 
fear  of  pursuit." 

"May  the  wheels  of  their  chariots  be  taken  off,"  said 
the  Jew,  "  like  those  of  the  host  of  Pharaoh,  that  they 
may  drive  heavily  !  —  But  leave  me  not,  good  Pilgrim.  — 
Think  but  of  that  fierce  and  savage  Templar,  with  his 
Saracen  slaves ;  they  will  regard  neither  territory,  nor 
manor,  nor  lordship."     , 

"Our  road,"  said  the  Palmer,  "should  here  separate; 
for  it  beseems  not  men  of  my  character  and  thine  to 
travel  together  longer  than  needs  must  be.  Besides, 
what  succour  couldst  thou  have  from  me,  a  peaceful 
Pilgrim,  against  two  armed  heathens  ?  " 

"  0  good  youth,"  answered  the  Jew,  "  thou  canst  defend 
me,  and  I  know  thou  wouldst.  Poor  as  I  am,  I  will  re- 
quite it  —  not  with  money,  for  money,  so  help  me  my 
Father  Abraham  !  I  have  none  ;  but  —  " 

"  Money  and  recompense,"  said  the  Palmer,  interrupt- 
ing him,  "  I  have  already  said  I  require  not  of  thee. 
Guide  thee  I  can,  and  it  may  be,  even  in  some  sort  de- 
fend thee ;  since  to  protect  a  Jew  against  a  Saracen  can 


2VANH0E.  63 

scarce  be  accounted  unworthy  of  a  Christian.  Therefore, 
Jew,  I  will  see  thee  safe  under  some  fitting  escort.  We 
are  now  not  far  from  the  town  of  Sheffield,  where  thou 
mayest  easily  find  many  of  thy  tribe  with  whom  to  take 
refuge." 

"The  blessing  of  Jacob  be  upon  thee,  good  youth!" 
said  the  Jew ;  "  in  Sheffield  I  can  harbour  with  my  kins- 
man Zareth,  and  find  some  means  of  travelling  forth  with 
safety." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  the  Palmer ;  "  at  Sheffield  then  we 
part,  and  half  an  hour's  riding  will  bring  us  in  sight  of 
that  town." 

The  half  hour  was  spent  in  perfect  silence  on  both 
parts ;  the  Pilgrim  perhaps  disdaining  to  address  the 
Jew,  except  in  case  of  absolute  necessity,  and  the  Jew 
not  presuming  to  force  a  conversation  with  a  person 
whose  journey  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre  gave  a  sort  of  sanc- 
tity to  his  character.  They  paused  on  the  top  of  a  gently 
rising  bank,  and  the  Pilgrim,  pointing  to  the  town  of 
Sheffield,  which  lay  beneath  them,  repeated  the  words, 
"  Here,  then,  we  part." 

"  Not  till  you  have  had  the  poor  Jew's  thanks,"  said 
Isaac ;  "  for  I  presume  not  to  ask  you  to  go  with  me  to 
my  kinsman  Zareth's,  who  might  aid  me  with  some  means 
of  repaying  your  good  offices." 

"  I  have  already  said,"  answered  the  Pilgrim,  "  that  I 
desire  no  recompense.  If,  among  the  huge  list  of  thy 
debtors,  thou  wilt,  for  my  sake,  spare  the  gyves  and  the 
dungeon  to  some  unhappy  Christian  who  stands  in  thy 
danger,  I  shall  hold  this  morning's  service  to  thee  well 
bestowed." 

"  Stay,  stay,"  said  the  Jew,  laying  hold  of  his  garment ; 
"  something  would  I  do  more  than  this  —  something  for 
thyself.  God  knows  the  Jew  is  poor  —  yes,  Isaac  is  the 
beggar  of  his  tribe  —  but  forgive  me  should  I  guess  what 
thou  most  lackest  at  this  moment." 

"  If  thou  wert  to  guess  truly,"  said  the  Palmer,  "  it  is 
what  thou  canst  not  supply,  wert  thou  as  wealthy  as  thou 
sayst  thou  art  poor." 

"  As  I  say  ! ' '  echoed  the  Jew.     "  Oh !  believe  it,  I  say 


64  IVANHOE. 

but  the  truth ;  I  am  a  plundered,  indebted,  distressed 
man.  Hard  hands  have  wrung  from  me  my  goods,  my 
money,  my  ships,  and  all  that  I  possessed.  —  Yet  I  can 
tell  thee  what  thou  lackest,  and,  it  may  be,  supply  it  too. 
Thy  wish  even  now  is  for  a  horse  and  armour." 

The  Palmer  started,  and  turned  suddenly  towards  the 
Jew.  "  What  fiend  prompted  that  guess  ?  "  said  he, 
hastily. 

"No  matter,"  said  the  Jew,  smiling,  "so  that  it  be  a 
true  one ;  and,  as  I  can  guess  thy  want,  so  I  can  supply 
it." 

"  But  consider,"  said  the  Palmer,  "  my  character,  my 
dress,  my  vow." 

"  I  know  you  Christians,"  replied  the  Jew,  "  and  that 
the  noblest  of  you  will  take  the  staff  aud  sandal  in  super- 
stitious penance,  and  walk  afoot  to  visit  the  graves  of 
dead  men." 

"  Blaspheme  not,  Jew  !  "  said  the  Pilgrim,  sternly. 

"Forgive  me,"  said  the  Jew;  "I  spoke  rashly.  But 
there  dropt  words  from  you  last  night  and  this  morning 
that,  like  sparks  from  flint,  showed  the  metal  within; 
and  in  the  bosom  of  that  Palmer's  gown  is  hidden  a 
knight's  chain  and  spurs  of  gold.  They  glanced  as  you 
stooped  over  my  bed  in  the  morning." 

The  Pilgrim  could  not  forbear  smiling.  "Were  thy 
garments  searched  by  as  curious  an  eye,  Isaac,"  said  he, 
"  what  discoveries  might  not  be  made  ?  " 

"  No  more  of  that,"  said  the  Jew,  changing  colour ;  and 
drawing  forth  his  writing  materials  in  haste,  as  if  to  stop 
the  conversation,  he  began  to  write  upon  a  piece  of  paper 
which  he  supported  on  the  top  of  his  yellow  cap,  without 
dismounting  from  his  mule.  When  he  had  finished,  he 
delivered  the  scroll,  which  was  in  the  Hebrew  character, 
to  the  Pilgrim,  saying,  "  In  the  town  of  Leicester  all  men 
know  the  rich  Jew,  Kirjath  Jairam  of  Lombardy ;  give 
him  this  scroll.  He  hath  on  sale  six  Milan  harnesses,  the 
worst  would  suit  a  crowned  head  —  ten  goodly  steeds,  the 
worst  might  mount  a  king,  were  he  to  do  battle  for  his 
throne.  Of  these  he  will  give  thee  thy  choice,  with  every- 
thing else  that  can  furnish  thee  forth  for  the  tournament; 


IYANHOE.  65 

when  it  is  over,  thou  wilt  return  them  safely  —  unless  thou 
shouldst  have  wherewith  to  pay  their  value  to  the  owner." 

"  But,  Isaac,"  said  the  Pilgrim,  smiling,  "  dost  thou 
know  that  in  these  sports  the  arms  and  steed  of  the 
knight  who  is  unhorsed  are  forfeit  to  his  victor  ?  Now 
I  may  be  unfortunate,  and  so  lose  what  I  cannot  replace 
or  repay." 

The  Jew  looked  somewhat  astounded  at  this  possibil- 
ity ;  but  collecting  his  courage,  he  replied  hastily,  "  No 
—  no  —  no.  It  is  impossible  —  I  will  not  think  so.  The 
blessing  of  Our  Father  will  be  upon  thee.  Thy  lance  will 
be  powerful  as  the  rod  of  Moses." 

So  saying,  he  was  turning  his  mule's  head  away,  when 
the  Palmer,  in  his  turn,  took  hold  of  his  gaberdine.  "  Nay, 
but,  Isaac,  thou  knowest  not  all  the  risk.     The  steed  may 

7  7  %J 

be  slain,  the  armour  injured  —  for  I  will  spare  neither 
horse  nor  man.  Besides,  those  of  thy  tribe  give  nothing 
for  nothing ;  something  there  must  be  paid  for  their  use." 

The  Jew  twisted  himself  in  the  saddle,  like  a  man  in  a 
fit  of  the  colic  ;  but  his  better  feelings  predominated  over 
those  which  were  most  familiar  to  him.  "  I  care  not,"  he 
said  —  "I  care  not ;  let  me  go.  If  there  is  damage,  it  will 
cost  you  nothing  —  if  there  is  usage  money,  Kirjath  Jairam 
will  forgive  it  for  the  sake  of  his  kinsman  Isaac.  Fare 
thee  well!  —  Yet,  hark  thee,  good  youth,"  said  he,  turn- 
ing about,  "  thrust  thyself  not  too  forward  into  this  vain 
hurly-burly  —  I  speak  not  for  endangering  the  steed  and 
coat  of  armour,  but  for  the  sake  of  thine  own  life  and 
limbs." 

"Gramercy  for  thy  caution,"  said  the  Palmer,  again 
smiling ;  "  I  will  use  thy  courtesy  frankly,  and  it  will  go 
hard  with  me  but  I  will  requite  it." 

They  parted,  and  took  different  roads  for  the  town  of 
Sheffield. 


66  IVANHOE. 

9^(L~-  V   v~y  ^Z  Cu-r  t^C 

CHAPTER   VII.  ^V 

Knights,  with  a  long  retinue  of  their  squires, 
In  gaudy  liveries  inarch,  and  quaint  attires  ; 
One  laced  the  helm,  another  held  the  lance, 
A  third  the  shining  buckler  did  advance. 
The  courser  paw'd  the  ground  with  restless  feet, 
And  snorting  foam'd  and  champ'd  the  golden  bit. 
The  smiths  and  armourers  on  palfreys  ride, 
Files  in  their  hands,  and  hammers  at  their  side  ; 
And  nails  for  loosen'd  spears,  and  thongs  for  shields  provide. 
The  yeomen  guard  the  streets  in  seemly  bands  ; 
And  clowns  come  crowding  on,  with  cudgels  in  their  hands. 

Palamon  and  Arcite. 

The  condition  of  the  English  nation  was  at  this  time 
sufficiently  miserable.  King  Richard  was  absent  a  pris- 
oner, and  in  the  power  of  the  perfidious  and  cruel  Duke 
of  Austria.  Even  the  very  place  of  his  captivity  was 
uncertain,  and  his  fate  but  very  imperfectly  known  to 
the  generality  of  his  subjects,  who  were,  in  the  meantime, 
a  prey  to  every  species  of  subaltern  oppression. 

Prince  John,  in  league  with  Philip  of  France,  Coeur-de- 
Lion's  mortal  enemy,  was  using  every  species  of  influence 
with  the  Duke  of  Austria  to  prolong  the  captivity  of  his 
brother  Richard,  to  whom  he  stood  indebted  for  so  many 
favours.  In  the  meantime,  he  was  strengthening  his  own 
faction  in  the  kingdoin,  of  which  he  proposed  to  dis- 
pute the  succession,  in  case  of  the  King's  death,  with  the 
legitimate  heir,  Arthur  Duke  of  Brittany,  son  of  Geoffrey 
Plantagenet,  the  elder  brother  of  John.  This  usurpation, 
it  is  well  known,  he  afterwards  effected.  His  own  char- 
acter being  light,  profligate,  and  perfidious,  John  easily 
attached  to  his  person  and  faction  not  only  all  who  had 
reason  to  dread  the  resentment  of  Richard  for  criminal 
proceedings  during  his  absence,  but  also  the  numerous 
class  of  "  lawless  resolutes "  whom  the  crusades  had 
turned  back  on  their  country,  accomplished  in  the  vices 
of  the  East,  impoverished  in  substance,  and  hardened  in 
character,  and  who  placed  their  hopes  of  harvest  in  civil 
commotion. 


IVANHOE.  67 

To  these  causes  of  public  distress  and  apprehension 
must  be  added  the  multitude  of  outlaws  who,  driven  to 
despair  by  the  oppression  of  the  feudal  nobility  and  the 
severe  exercise  of  the  forest  laws,  banded  together  in 
large  gangs,  and  keeping  possession  of  the  forests  and 
the  wastes,  set  at  defiance  the  justice  and  magistracy  of 
the  country.  The  nobles  themselves,  each  fortified  within 
his  own  castle,  and  playing  the  petty  sovereign  over  his 
own  dominions,  were  the  leaders  of  bands  scarce  less  law- 
less and  oppressive  than  those  of  the  avowed  depredators. 
To  maintain  these  retainers,  and  to  support  the  extrava- 
gance and  magnificence  which  their  pride  induced  them 
to  affect,  the  nobility  borrowed  sums  of  money  from  the 
Jews  at  the  most  usurious  interest,  which  gnawed  into 
their  estates  like  consuming  cankers,  scarce  to  be  cured 
unless  when  circumstances  gave  them  an  opportunity  of 
getting  free  by  exercising  upon  their  creditors  some  act 
of  unprincipled  violence. 

Under  the  various  burdens  imposed  by  this  unhappy 
state  of  affairs,  the  people  of  England  suffered  deeply  for 
the  present,  and  had  yet  more  dreadful  cause  to  fear  for 
the  future.  To  augment  their  misery,  a  contagious  dis- 
order of  a  dangerous  nature  spread  through  the  land ; 
and,  rendered  more  virulent  by  the  uncleanness,  the  in- 
different food,  and  the  wretched  lodging  of  the  lower 
classes,  swept  off  many,  whose  fate  the  survivors  were 
tempted  to  envy,  as  exempting  them  from  the  evils  which 
were  to  come. 

Yet,  amid  these  accumulated  distresses,  the  poor  as 
well  as  the  rich,  the  vulgar  as  well  as  the  noble,  in  the 
event  of  a  tournament,  which  was  the  grand  spectacle  of 
that  age,  felt  as  much  interested  as  the  half-starved  citi- 
zen of  Madrid,  who  has  not  a  real  left  to  buy  provisions 
for  his  family,  feels  in  the  issue  of  a  bull-feast.  Neither 
duty  nor  infirmity  could  keep  youth  or  age  from  such  ex- 
hibitions. The  Passage  of  Arms,  as  it  was  called,  which 
was  to  take  place  at  Ashby,  in  the  county  of  Leicester, 
as  champions  of  the  first  renown  were  to  take  the  field 
in  the  presence  of  Prince  John  himself,  who  was  expected 
1  o  grace  the  lists,  had  attracted  universal  attention,  and 


68  IVANHOE. 


an  immense  confluence  of  persons  of  all  ranks  hastened 
upon  the  appointed  morning  to  the  place  of  combat. 

The  scene  was  singularly  romantic.  On  the  verge  of 
a  wood,  which  approached  to  within  a  mile  of  the  town 
of  Ashby,  was  an  extensive  meadow  of  the  finest  and 
most  beautiful  green  turf,  surrounded  on  one  side  by 
the  forest,  and  fringed  on  the  other  by  straggling  oak 
trees,  some  of  which  had  grown  to  an  immense  size.  The 
ground,  as  if  fashioned  on  purpose  for  the  martial  dis- 
play which  was  intende/1,  sloped  gradually  down  on  all 
sides  to  a  level  bottom,  which  was  inclosed  for  the  lists 
with  strong  palisades,  forming  a  space  of  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  in  length,  and  about  half  as  broad.  The  form  of 
the  enclosure  was  an  oblong  square,  save  that  the  corners 
were  considerably  rounded  off,  in  order  to  afford  more 
convenience  for  the  spectators.  The  openings  for  the 
entry  of  the  combatants  were  at  the  northern  and  south- 
ern extremities  of  the  lists,  accessible  by  strong  wooden 
gates,  each  wide  enough  to  admit  two  horsemen  riding 
abreast.  At  each  of  these  portals  were  stationed  two 
heralds,  attended  by  six  trumpets,  as  many  pursuivants, 
and  a  strong  body  of  men-at-arms,  for  maintaining  order, 
and  ascertaining  the  quality  of  the  knights  who  proposed 
to  engage  in  this  martial  game. 

On  a  platform  beyond  the  southern  entrance,  formed 
by  a  natural  elevation  of  the  ground,  were  pitched  five 
magnificent  pavilions,  adorned  with  pennons  of  russet 
and  black,  the  chosen  colours  of  the  five  knights  challeng- 
ers. The  cords  of  the  tents  were  of  the  same  colour. 
Before  each  pavilion  was  suspended  the  shield  of  the 
knight  by  whom  it  was  occupied,  and  beside  it  stood  his 
squire,  quaintly  disguised  as  a  salvage  or  silvan  man,  or 
in  some  other  fantastic  dress,  according  to  the  taste  of 
his  master,  and  the  character  he  was  pleased  to  assume 
during  the  game.  The  central  pavilion,  as  the  place  of 
honour,  had  been  assigned  to  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert, 
whose  renown  in  all  games  of  chivalry,  no  less  than  his 
connexion  with  the  knights  who  had  undertaken  this 
Passage  of  Arms,  had  occasioned  him  to  be  eagerly  re- 
ceived into  the   company  of  the  challengers,  and  even 


IVANHOE.  69 

adopted  as  their  chief  and  leader,  though  he  had  so  re- 
cently joined  them.  On  one  side  of  his  tent  were  pitched 
those  of  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf  and  Richard  de  Malvoi- 
sin,  and  on  the  other  was  the  pavilion  of  Hugh  de  Grant- 
mesnil,  a  noble  baron  in  the  vicinity,  whose  ancestor  had 
been  Lord  High  Steward  of  England  in  the  time  of  the 
Conqueror  and  his  son  William  Rufus.  Ralph  de  Vipont, 
a  knight  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem,  who  had  some  ancient 
possessions  at  a  place  called  Heather,  near  Ashby-de-la- 
Zouche,  occupied  the  fifth  pavilion.  From  the  entrance 
into  the  lists  a  gently  sloping  passage,  ten  yards  in 
breadth,  led  up  to  the  platform  on  which  the  tents  were 
pitched.  It  was  strongly  secured  by  a  palisade  on  each 
side,  as  was  the  esplanade  in  front  of  the  pavilions,  and 
the  whole  was  guarded  by  men-at-arms. 

The  northern  access  to  the  lists  terminated  in  a  similar 
entrance  of  thirty  feet  in  breadth,  at  the  extremity  of 
which  was  a  large  inclosed  space  for  such  knights  as 
might  be  disposed  to  enter  the  lists  with  the  challengers, 
behind  which  were  placed  tents  containing  refreshments 
of  every  kind  for  their  accommodation,  with  armourers, 
farriers,  and  other  attendants,  in  readiness  to  give  their 
services  wherever  they  might  be  necessary. 

The  exterior  of  the  lists  was  in  part  occupied  by  tem- 
porary galleries,  spread  with  tapestry  and  carpets,  and 
accommodated  with  cushions  for  the  convenience  of  those 
ladies  and  nobles  who  were  expected  to  attend  the  tour- 
nament. A  narrow  space  betwixt  these  galleries  and  the 
lists  gave  accommodation  for  yeomanry  and  spectators  of 
a  better  degree  than  the  mere  vulgar,  and  might  be  com- 
pared to  the  pit  of  a  theatre'.  The  promiscuous  multitude 
arranged  themselves  upon  large  banks  of  turf  prepared 
for  the  purpose,  which,  aided  by  the  natural  elevation  of 
the  ground,  enabled  them  to  overlook  the  galleries  and 
obtain  a  fair  view  into  the  lists.  Besides  the  accommoda- 
tion which  these  stations  afforded,  many  hundreds  had 
perched  themselves  on  the  branches  of  the  trees  which 
surrounded  the  meadow ;  and  even  the  steeple  of  a  coun- 
try church,  at  some  distance,  was  crowded  with  spectators 

It  only  remains  to  notice  respecting  the  general  ar 


70  IVANHOE. 

rangement,  that  one  gallery  in  the  very  centre  of  the 
eastern  side  of  the  lists,  and  consequently  exactly  oppo- 
site to  the  spot  where  the  shock  of  the  combat  was  to 
take  place,  was  raised  higher  than  the  others,  more  richly 
decorated^  and  graced  by  a  sort  of  throne  and  canopy,  on 
which  the  royal  arms  were  emblazoned.  Squires,  pages, 
and  yeomen  in  rich  liveries  waited  around  this  place  of 
honour,  which  was  designed  for  Prince  John  and  his  at- 
tendants. Opposite  to  this  gallery  was  another,  elevated 
to  the  same  height,  on  the  western  side  of  the  lists  ;  and 
more  gaily,  if  less  sumptuously,  decorated  than  that  des- 
tined for  the  Prince  ^himself .  A  train  of  pages  and  of 
young  maidens,  the  most  beautiful  who  could  be  selected, 
gaily  dressed  in  fancy  habits  of  green  and  pink,  sur- 
rounded a  throne  decorated  in  the  same  colours.  Among 
pennons  and  flags  bearing  wounded  hearts,  burning  hearts, 
bleeding  hearts,  bows  and  quivers,  and  all  the  common- 
place emblems  of  the  triumphs  of  Cupid,  a  blazoned 
inscription  informed  the  spectators  that  this  seat  of 
honour  was  designed  for  La  Royne  de  la  Beaulte  et  des 
Amours.  But  who  was  to  represent  the  Queen  of  Beauty 
and  of  Love  on  the  present  occasion  no  one  was  prepared 
to  guess. 

Meanwhile,  spectators  of  every  description  thronged 
forward  to  occupy  their  respective  stations,  and  not  with- 
out many  quarrels  concerning  those  which  they  were 
entitled  to  hold.  Some  o£  these  were  settled  by  the  men- 
at-arms  with  brief  ceremony;  the  shafts  of  their  battle- 
axes  and  pummels  of  their  swords  being  readily  employed 
as  arguments  to  convince  the  more  refractory.  Others, 
which  involved  the  rival  claims  of  more  elevated  persons, 
were  determined  by  the  heralds,  or  by  the  two  marshals 
of  the  field,  William  de  Wyvil  and  Stephen  de  Martival, 
who,  armed  at  all  points,  rode  up  and  down  the  lists  to 
enforce  and  preserve  good  order  among  the  spectators. 

Gradually  the  galleries  became  filled  with  knights  and 
nobles,  in  their  robes  of  peace,  whose  long  and  rich-tinted 
mantles  were  contrasted  with  the  gayer  and  more  splen- 
did habits  of  the  ladies,  who,  in  a  greater  proportion  than 
even  the  men  themselves,  thronged  to  witness  a  sport 


IYANHOE.  71 

which  one  would  have  thought  too  bloody  and  dangerous 
to  afford  their  sex  much  pleasure.  The  lower  and  in- 
terior space  was  soon  filled  by  substantial  yeomen  and 
burghers,  and  such  of  the  lesser  gentry  as,  from  modesty, 
poverty,  or  dubious  title,  durst  not  assume  any  higher 
place.  It  was  of  course  amongst  these  that  the  most 
frequent  disputes  for  precedence  occurred. 

"  Dog  of  an  unbeliever,"  said  an  old  man,  whose  thread- 
bare tunic  bore  witness  to  his  poverty,  as  his  sword,  and 
dagger,  and  golden  chain  intimated  his  pretensions  to 
rank  —  "  whelp  of  a  she-wolf !  darest  thou  press  upon  a 
Christian,  and  a  Norman  gentleman  of  the  blood  of 
Montdidier  ?  " 

This  rough  expostulation  was  addressed  to  no  other 
than  our  acquaintance  Isaac,  who,  richly  and  even  mag- 
nificently dressed  in  a  gaberdine  ornamented  with  lace 
and  lined  with  fur,  was  endeavouring  to  make  place  in 
the  foremost  row  beneath  the  gallery  for  his  daughter, 
the  beautiful  Rebecca,  who  had  joined  him  at  Ashby,  and 
who  was  now  hanging  on  her  father's  arm,  not  a  little 
terrified  by  the  popular  displeasure  which  seemed  gener- 
ally excited  by  her  parent's  presumption.  But  Isaac, 
though  we  have  seen  him  sufficiently  timid  on  other 
occasions,  knew  well  that  at  present  he  had  nothing  to 
fear.  It  was  not  in  places  of  general  resort,  or  where 
their  equals  were  assembled,  that  any  avaricious  or  ma- 
levolent noble  durst  offer  him  injury.  At  such  meetings 
the  Jews  were  under  the  protection  of  the  general  law ; 
and  if  that  proved  a  weak  assurance,  it  usually  happened 
that  there  were  among  the  persons  assembled  some 
barons  who,  for  their  own  interested  motives,  were  ready 
to  act  as  their  protectors.  On  the  present  occasion,  Isaac 
felt  more  than  usually  confident,  being  aware  that  Prince 
John  was  even  then  in  the  very  act  of  negotiating  a  large 
loan  from  the  Jews  of  York,  to  be  secured  upon 
certain  jewels  and  lands.  Isaac's  own  share  in  this 
transaction  was  considerable,  and  he  well  knew  that  the 
Prince's  eager  desire  to  bring  it  to  a  conclusion  would 
ensure  him  his  protection  in  the  dilemma  in  which  he 
stood. 


72  IV AN  HOE. 

Emboldened  by  these  considerations,  the  Jew  pursued 
his  point,  and  jostled  the  Norman  Christian  without  , 
respect  either  to  his  descent,  quality,  or  religion.  The 
complaints  of  the  old  man,  however,  excited  the  indigna- 
tion of  the  bystanders.  One  of  these,  a  stout,  well-set 
yeoman,  arrayed  in  Lincoln  green,  having  twelve  arrows 
stuck  in  his  belt,  with  a  baldric  and  badge  of  silver,  and 
a  bow  of  six  feet  length  in  his  hand,  turned  short  round, 
and  while  his  countenance,  which  his  constant  exposure 
to  weather  had  rendered  brown  as  a  hazel  nut,  grew 
darker  with  anger,  he  advised  the  Jew  to  remember  that 
all  the  wealth  he  had  acquired  by  sucking  the  blood  of 
his  miserable  victims  had  but  swelled  him  like  a  bloated 
spider,  which  might  be  overlooked  while  it  kept  in  a 
corner,  but  would  be  crushed  if  it  ventured  into  the  light. 
This  intimation,  delivered  in  Norman-English  with  a  firm 
voice  and  a  stern  aspect,  made  the  Jew  shrink  back ;  and 
he  would  have  probably  withdrawn  himself  altogether 
from  a  vicinity  so  dangerous,  had  not  the  attention  of 
every  one  been  called  to  the  sudden  entrance  of  Prince 
John,  who  at  that  moment  entered  the  lists,  attended  by 
a  numerous  and  gay  train,  consisting  partly  of  laymen, 
partly  of  churchmen,  as  light  in  their  dress,  and  as  gay 
in  their  demeanour,  as  their  companions.  Among  the 
latter  was  the  Prior  of  Jorvaulx,  in  the  most  gallant  trini^ 
which  a  dignitary  of  the  church  could  venture  to  exhibit. 
Fur  and  gold  were  not  spared  in  his  garments ;  and  the 
point  of  his  'boots,  out-he'roding  the  preposterous  fashion 
of  the  time,  turned  up  so  very  far  as  to  be  attached  not 
to  his  knees  merely,  but  to  his  very  girdle,  and  effectually 
prevented  him  from  putting  his  foot  into  the  stirrup. 
This,  however,  was  a  slight  inconvenience  to  the  gallant 
Abbot,  who,  perhaps  even  rejoicing  in  the  opportunity  to 
display  his  accomplished  horsemanship  before  so  many 
spectators,  especially  of  the  fair  sex,  dispensed  with  the 
use  of  these  supports  to  a  timid  rider.  The  rest  of  Prince 
John's  retinue  consisted  of  the  favourite  leaders  of  his 
mercenary  troops,  some  marauding  barons  and  profligate 
attendants  upon  the  court,  with  several  Knights  Templars 
and  Knights  of  St.  John. 


IVANHOE.  73 

It  may  be  here  remarked,  that  the  knights  of  these  two 
orders  were  accounted  hostile  to  King  Richard,  having 
adopted  the  side  of  Philip  of  France  in  the  long  train  of 
disputes  which  took  place  in  Palestine  betwixt  that  mon- 
arch and  the  lion-hearted  King  of  England.  It  was  the 
well-known  consequence  of  this  discord  that  Richard's 
repeated  victories  had  been  rendered  fruitless,  his  roman- 
tic attempts  to  besiege  Jerusalem  disappointed,  and  the 
fruit  of  all  the  glory  which  he  had  acquired  had  dwindled 
into  an  uncertain  truce  with  the  Sultan  Saladin.  With 
the  same  policy  which  had  dictated  the  conduct  of  their 
brethren  in  the  Holy  Land,  the  Templars  and  Hospitallers 
in  England  and  Normandy  attached  themselves  to  the 
faction  of  Prince  John,  having  little  reason  to  desire  the 
return  of  Richard  to  England,  or  the  succession  of  Arthur, 
his  legitimate  heir.  For  the  opposite  reason,  Prince  John 
hated  and  contemned  the  few  Saxon  families  of  conse- 
quence which  subsisted  in  England,  and  omitted  no 
opportunity  of  mortifying  and  affronting  them  ;  being 
conscious  that  his  person  and  pretensions  were  disliked 
by  them,  as  well  as  by  the  greater  part  of  the  English 
commons,  who  feared  farther  innovation  upon  their  rights 
and  liberties  from  a  sovereign  of  John's  licentious  and 
tyrannical  disposition. 

Attended  by  this  gallant  equipage,  himself  well  mounted, 
and  splendidly  dressed  in  crimson  and  in  gold,  bearing 
upon  his  hand  a  falcon,  and  having  his  head  covered  by 
a  rich  fur  bonnet,  adorned  with  a  circle  of  precious  stones, 
from  which  his  long  curled  hair  escaped  and  overspread 
his  shoulders,  Prince  John,  upon  a  grey  and  high-mettled 
palfrey,  caracoled  within  the  lists  at  the  head  of  his 
jovial  party,  laughing  loud  with  his  train,  and  eyeing 
with  all  the  boldness  of  royal  criticism  the  beauties  who 
adorned  the  lofty  galleries. 

Those  who  remarked  in  the  physiognomy  of  the  Prince 
a  dissolute  audacity,  mingled  with  extreme  haughtiness 
and  indifference  to  the  feelings  of  others,  could  not  yet 
deny  to  his  countenance  that  sort  of  comeliness  which 
belongs  to  an  open  set  of  features,  well  formed  by  nature, 
modelled  by  art  to  the  usual  rules  of  courtesy,  yet  so  far 


74  IVANHOE. 

frank  and  honest  that  they  seemed  as  if  they  disclaimed 
to  conceal  the  natural  workings  of  the  soul.  Such  an 
expression  is  often  mistaken  for  manly  frankness,  when 
in  truth  it  arises  from  the  reckless  indifference  of  a  liber- 
tine disposition,  conscious  of  superiority  of  birth,  of 
wealth,  or  of  some  other  adventitious  advantage,  totally 
unconnected  with  personal  merit.  To  those  who  did 
not  think  so  deeply,  and  they  were  the  greater  number 
by  a  hundred  to  one,  the  splendour  of  Prince  John's 
rheno  (i.e.,  fur  tippet),  the  richness  of  his  cloak,  lined 
with  the  most  costly  sables,  his  maroquin  boots  and  golden 
spurs,  together  with  the  grace  with  which  he  managed 
his  palfrey,  were  sufficient  to  merit  clamorous  applause. 

In  his  joyous  caracole  round  the  lists,  the  attention  of 
the  Prince  was  called  by  the  commotion,  not  yet  subsided, 
which  had  attended  the  ambitious  movement  of  Isaac 
towards  the  higher  places  of  the  assembly.  The  quick 
eye  of  Prince  John  instantly  recognised  the  Jew,  but  was 
much  more  agreeably  attracted  by  the  beautiful  daughter 
of  Zion,  who,  terrified  by  the  tumult,  clung  close  to  the 
arm  of  her  aged  father. 

The  figure  of  Rebecca  might  indeed  have  compared 
with  the  proudest  beauties  of  England,  even  though  it 
had  been  judged  by  as  shrewd  a  connoisseur  as  Prince 
John.  Her  form  was  exquisitely  symmetrical,  and  was 
shown  to  advantage  by  a  sort  of  Eastern  dress,  which  she 
wore  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  females  of  her  nation. 
Her  turban  of  yellow  silk  suited  well  with  the  darkness 
of  her  complexion.  The  brilliancy  of  her  eyes,  the  su- 
perb arch  of  her  eyebrows,  her  well-formed  aquiline  nose, 
her  teeth  as  white  as  pearl,  and  the  profusion  of  her  sable 
tresses,  which,  each  arranged  in  its  own  little  spiral  of 
twisted  curls,  fell  down  upon  as  much  of  a  lovely  neck 
and  bosom  as  a  simarre  of  the  richest  Persian  silk,  ex- 
hibiting flowers  in  their  natural  colours  embossed  upon  a 
purple  ground,  permitted  to  be  visible  —  all  these  consti- 
tuted a  combination  of  loveliness  which  yielded  not  to 
the  most  beautiful  of  the  maidens  who  surrounded  her. 
It  is  true,  that  of  the  golden  and  pearl-studded  clasps 
which  closed  her  vest  from  the  throat  to  the  waist,  the 


IVANHOE.  75 

three  uppermost  were  left  unfastened  on  account  of  the 
heat,  which,  something  enlarged  the  prospect  to  which  we 
allude.  A  diamond  necklace,  with  pendants  of  inestima- 
ble value,  were  by  this  means  also  made  more  conspicu- 
ous. The  feather  of  an  ostrich,  fastened  in  her  turban 
by  an  agraffe  set  with  brilliants,  was  another  distinction 
of  the  beautiful  Jewess,  scoffed  and  sneered  at  by  the 
proud  dames  who  sat  above  her,  but  secretly  envied  by 
those  who  affected  to  deride  them. 

"  By  the  bald  scalp  of  Abraham,"  said  Prince  John, 
"yonder  Jewess  must  be  the  very  model  of  that  perfec- 
tion whose  charms  drove  frantic  the  wisest  king  that 
ever  lived  !  What  sayest  thou,  Prior  Aymer  ?  —  By  the 
Temple  of  that  wise  king,  which  our  wiser  brother  Bich- 
ard  proved  unable  to  recover,  she  is  the  very  Bride  of 
the  Canticles  ! " 

"  The  Bose  of  Sharon  and  the  Lily  of  the  Valley,"  an- 
swered the  Prior,  in  a  sort  of  snuffling  tone  ;  "but  your 
Grace  must  remember  she  is  still  but  a  Jewess." 

"Ay!"  added  Prince  John,  without  heeding  him,  "and 
there  is  my  Mammon  of  unrighteousness  too  —  the  Mar- 
quis of  Marks,  the  Baron  of  Byzants,  contesting  for  place 
with  penniless  dogs,  whose  threadbare  cloaks  have  not  a 
single  cross  in  their  pouches  to  keep  the  devil  from  danc- 
ing there.  By  the  body  of  St.  Mark,  my  prince  of  sup- 
plies, with  his  lovely  Jewess,  shall  have  a  place  in  the 
gallery  !  —  What  is  she,  Isaac  ?  Thy  wife  or  thy  daugh- 
ter, that  Eastern  houri  that  thou  lockest  under  thy  arm 
as  thou  wouldst  thy  treasure-casket  ?  " 

"  My  daughter  Bebecca,  so  please  your '  Grace,"  an- 
swered Isaac,  with  a  low  congee,  nothing  embarrassed  by 
the  Prince's  salutation,  in  which,  however,  there  was  at 
least  as  much  mockery  as  courtesy. 

"  The  wiser  man  thou,"  said  John,  with  a  peal  of  laugh- 
ter, in  which  his  gay  followers  obsequiously  joined.  "  But, 
daughter  or  wife,  she  should  be  preferred  according  to  her 
beauty  and  thy  merits.  —  Who  sits  above  there  ?  "  he 
continued,  bending  his  eye  on  the  gallery.  "  Saxon 
churls,  lolling  at  their  lazy  length  !  Out  upon  them  !  let 
them  sit  close,  and  make  room  for  my  prince  of  usurers 


76  IVANHOE. 

and  his  lovely  daughter.  I'll  make  the  hinds  know  they 
must  share  the  high  places  of  the  synagogue  with  those 
whom  the  synagogue  properly  belongs  to." 

Those  who  occupied  the  gallery,  to  whom  this  injurious 
and  impolite  speech  was  addressed,  were  the  family  of 
Cedric  the  Saxon,  with  that  of  his  ally  and  kinsman, 
Athelstane  of  Coningsburgh,  a  personage  who,  on  account 
of  his  descent  from  the  last  Saxon  monarchs  of  England, 
was  held  in  the  highest  respect  by  all  the  Saxon  natives 
of  the  north  of  England.  But  with  the  blood  of  this  an- 
cient royal  race  many  of  their  infirmities  had  descended 
to  Athelstane.  He  was  comely  in  countenance,  bulky 
and  strong  in  person,  and  in  the  flower  of  his  age ;  yet 
inanimate  in  expression,  dull-eyed,  heavy-browed,  inac- 
tive and  sluggish  in  all  his  motions,  and  so  slow  in  reso- 
lution, that  the  soubriquet  of  one  of  his  ancestors  was 
conferred  upon  him,  and  he  was  very  generally  called 
Athelstane  the  Unready.  His  friends  —  and  he  had 
many  who,  as  well  as  Cedric,  were  passionately  attached 
to  him  —  contended  that  this  sluggish  temper  arose  not 
from  want  of  courage,  but  from  mere  want  of  decision ; 
others  alleged  that  his  hereditary  vic_e  of  drunkenness 
had  obscured  his  faculties,  never  of  a  very  acute  order, 
and  that  the  passive  courage  and  meek  good-nature  which 
remained  behind  were  merely  the  dregs  of  a  character  that 
might  have  been  deserving  of  praise,  but  of  which  all  the 
valuable  parts  had  flown  ofjf  in  the  progress  of  a  long  course 
of  brutal  debauchery. 

It  was  to  this  person,  such  as  we  have  described  him,  that 
the  Prince  addressed  his  imperious  command  to  make  place 
for  Isaac  and  Rebecca.  Athelstane,  utterly  confounded 
at  an  order  which  the  manners  and  feelings  of  the  times 
rendered  so  injuriously  insulting,  unwilling  to  obey,  yet 
undetermined  how  to  resist,  opposed  only  the  vis  inertke 
to  the  will  of  John ;  and,  without  stirring  or  making  any 
motion  whatever  of  obedience,  opened  his  large  grey  eyes 
and  stared  at  the  Prince  with  an  astonishment  which  had 
in  it  something  extremely  ludicrous.  But  the  impatient 
John  regarded  it  in  no  such  light. 

"  The  Saxon  porker,"  he  said,  "  is  either  asleep  or  minds 


IVANHOE.  11 

me  not  —  prick  him  with  your  lance,  De  Bracy,"  speaking 
to  a  knight  who  rode  near  him,  the  leader  of  a  band  of 
free  companions,  or  condottieri  ;  that  is,  of  mercenaries 
belonging  to  no  particular  nation,  but  attached  for  the 
time  to  any  prince  by  whom  they  were  paid.  There  was 
a  murmur  even  among  the  attendants  of  Prince  John; 
but  De  Bracy,  whose  profession  freed  him  from  all 
scruples,  extended  his  long  lance  over  the  space  which 
separated  the  gallery  from  the  lists,  and  would  have  exe- 
cuted the  commands  of  the  Prince  before  Athelstane  the 
Unready  had  recovered  presence  of  mind  sufficient  even 
to  draw  back  his  person  from  the  weapon,  had  not  Cedric, 
as  prompt  as  his  companion  was  tardy,  unsheathed,  with 
the  speed  of  lightning,  the  short  sword  which  he  wore, 
and  at  a  single  blow  severed  the  point  of  the  lance  from 
the  handle.  The  blood  rushed  into  the  countenance  of 
Prince  John.  He  swore  one  of  his  deepest  oaths,  and 
was  about  to  utter  some  threat  corresponding  in  violence, 
when  he  was  diverted  from  his  purpose,  partly  by  his 
own  attendants,  who  gathered  around  him  conjuring  him 
to  be  patient,  partly  by  a  general  exclamation  of  the 
crowd,  uttered  in  loud  applause  of  the  spirited  conduct 
of  Cedric.  The  Prince  rolled  his  eyes  in  indignation,  as 
if  to  collect  some  safe  and  easy  victim ;  and  chancing  to 
encounter  the  firm  glance  of  the  same  archer  whom  we 
have  already  noticed,  and  who  seemed  to  persist  in  his 
gesture  of  applause,  in  spite  of  the  frowning  aspect  which 
the  Prince  bent  upon  him,  he  demanded  his  reason  for 
clamouring  thus. 

"  I  always  add  my  hollo,"  said  the  yeoman,  "  when  I 
see  a  good  shot  or  a  gallant  blow." 

"  Sayst  thou  ?  "  answered  the  Prince  ;  "  then  thou  canst 
hit  the  white  thyself,  I'll  warrant." 

"  A  woodsman's  mark,  and  at  woodsman's  distance,  I 
can  hit,"  answered  the  yeoman. 

"  And  Wat  Tyrrel's  mark,  at  a  hundred  yards,"  said  a 
voice  from  behind,  but  by  whom  uttered  could  not  be 
discerned. 

This  allusion  to  the  fate  of  William  Rufus,  his  grand- 
father, at  once  incensed  and  alarmed  Prince  John.     He 


78  IVANHOE. 

satisfied  himself,  however,  with  commanding  the  men- 
at-arms,  who  surrounded  the  lists,  to  keep  an  eye  on  the 
braggart,  pointing  to  the  yeoman. 

"  By  St.  Grizzel,"  he  added,  "  we  will  try  his  own  skill, 
who  is  so  ready  to  give  his  voice  to  the  feats  of  others  !  " 

"  I  shall  not  fly  the  trial,"  said  the  yeoman,  with  the 
composure  which  marked  his  whole  deportment. 

"  Meanwhile,  stand  up,  ye  Saxon  churls,"  said  the  fiery 
Prince ;  "  for,  by  the  light  of  Heaven,  since  I  have  said 
it,  the  Jew  shall  have  his  seat  amongst  ye !  " 

"  By  no  means,  an  it  please  your  Grace  !  —  it  is  not  fit 
for  such  as  we  to  sit  with  the  rulers  of  the  land,"  said 
the  Jew,  whose  ambition  for  precedence,  though  it  had 
led  him  to  dispute  place  with  the  extenuated  and  impov- 
erished descendant  of  the  line  of  Montdidier,  by  no  means 
stimulated  him  to  an  intrusion  upon  the  privileges  of  the 
wealthy  Saxons. 

"  Up,  infidel  dog,  when  I  command  you,"  said  Prince 
John,  "  or  I  will  have  thy  swarthy  hide  stript  off  and 
tanned  for  horse-furniture  !  " 

Thus  urged,  the  Jew  began  to  ascend  the  steep  and 
narrow  steps  which  led  up  to  the  gallery. 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  the  Prince,  "  who  dare  stop  him ! ' 
fixing  his  eye  on  Cedric,  whose  attitude  intimated  his  in- 
tention to  hurl  the  Jew  down  headlong. 

The  catastrophe  was  prevented  by  the  clown  Wamba, 
who,  springing  betwixt  his  master  and  Isaac,  and  exclaim- 
ing in  answer  to  the  Prince's  defiance,  "  Marry,  that  will 
I ! "  opposed  to  the  beard  of  the  Jew  a  shield  of  brawn, 
which  he  plucked  from  beneath  his  cloak,  and  with  which, 
doubtless,  he  had  furnished  himself  lest  the  tournament 
should  have  proved  longer  than  his  appetite  could  endure 
abstinence.  Finding  the  abomination  of  his  tribe  opposed 
to  his  very  nose,  while  the  Jester  at  the  same  time  flour- 
ished his  wooden  sword  above  his  head,  the  Jew  recoiled, 
missed  his  footing,  and  rolled  down  the  steps  —  an  excel- 
lent jest  to  the  spectators,  who  set  up  a  loud  laughter, 
in  which  Prince  John  and  his  attendants  heartily  joined. 

"  Deal  me  the  prize,  cousin  Prince,"  said  Wamba ;  "  I 
have  vanquished  my  foe  in   fair  fight   with  sword  and 


IVANHOE.  79 

shield,"  he  added,  brandishing  the  brawn  in  one  hand 
and  the  wooden  sword  in  the  other. 

"  Who  and  what  art  thou,  noble  champion  ? "  said 
Prince  John,  still  laughing. 

"  A  fool  by  right  of  descent,"  answered  the  Jester ;  "  I 
am  Wamba,  the  son  of  Witless,  who  was  the  son  of 
Weatherbrain,  who  was  the  son  of  an  alderman." 

"  Make  room  for  the  Jew  in  front  of  the  lower  ring," 
said  Prince  John,  not  unwilling,  perhaps,  to  seize  an 
apology  to  desist  from  his  original  purpose ;  "  to  place 
the  vanquished  beside  the  victor  were  false  heraldry." 

"  Knave  upon  fool  were  worse,"  answered  the  Jester, 
"  and  Jew  upon  bacon  worst  of  all." 

"  Grarnercy  !  good  fellow,"  cried  Prince  John,  "  thou 
pleasest  me.  —  Here,  Isaac,  lend  me  a  handful  of  byzants." 

As  the  Jew,  stunned  by  the  request,  afraid  to  refuse 
and  unwilling  to  comply,  fumbled  in  the  furred  bag  which 
hung  by  his  girdle,  and  was  perhaps  endeavouring  to 
ascertain  how  few  coins  might  pass  for  a  handful,  the 
Prince  stooped  from  his  jennet  and  settled  Isaac's  doubts 
by  snatching  the  pouch  itself  from  his  side  ;  and  flinging 
to  Wamba  a  couple  of  the  gold  pieces  which  it  contained, 
he  pursued  his  career  round  the  lists,  leaving  the  Jew  to 
the  derision  of  those  around  him,  and  himself  receiving 
as  much  applause  from  the  spectators'  as  if  he  had  done 
some  honest  and  honourable  action. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

At  this  the  challenger  with  fierce  defy 
His  trumpet  sounds  ;  the  challenged  makes  reply ; 
With  clangour  rings  the  field,  resounds  the  vaulted  sky. 
Their  visors  closed,  their  lances  in  the  rest, 
Or  at  the  helmet  pointed  or  the  crest, 
They  vanish  from  the  barrier,  speed  the  race, 
And  spurring,  see  decrease  the  middle  space. 

Palarnon  and  Arcite. 

In  the  midst  of  Prince  John's  cavalcade,  he  suddenly 
stopt,  and  appealing  to  the  Prior  of  Jorvaulx,  declared 
the  principal  business  of  the  day  had  been  forgotten. 


80  IVAN  HOE. 

"  By  my  halidom,"  said  he,  "  we  have  neglected,  Sir 
Prior,  to  name  the  fair  Sovereign  of  Love  and  of  Beauty, 
by  whose  white  hand  the  palm  is  to  be  distributed.  For 
my  part,  I  am  liberal  in  my  ideas,  and  I  care  not  if  I  give 
my  vote  for  the  black-eyed  Rebecca." 

"  Holy  Virgin,"  answered  the  Prior,  turning  up  his 
eyes  in  horror,  "  a  Jewess !  — We  should  deserve  to  be 
stoned  out  of  the  lists;  and  I  am  not  yet  old  enough  to 
be  a  martyr.  Besides,  I  swear  by  my  patron  saint  that 
she  is  far  inferior  to  the  lovely  Saxon,  Rowena." 

"  Saxon  or  Jew,"  answered  the  Prince,  "  Saxon  or  Jew, 
dog  or  hog,  what  matters  it !  I  say,  name  Rebecca,  were 
it  only  to  mortify  the  Saxon  churls." 

A  murmur  arose  even  among  his  own  immediate 
attendants. 

"This  passes  a  jest,  my  lord,"  said  De  Bracy;  "no 
knight  here  will  lay  lance  in  rest  if  such  an  insult  is 
attempted." 

"  It  is  the  mere  wantonness  of  insult,"  said  one  of  the 
oldest  and  most  important  of  Prince  John's  followers, 
Waldemar  Fitzurse,  "  and  if  your  Grace  attempt  it,  can- 
not but  prove  ruinous  to  your  projects." 

"  I  entertained  you,  sir,"  said  John,  reining  up  his 
palfrey  haughtily,  "for  my  follower,  but  not  for  my 
counsellor." 

"  Those  who  follow  your  Grace  in  the  paths  which  you 
tread,"  said  Waldemar, '  but  speaking  in  a  low  voice, 
"  acquire  the  right  of  counsellors  ;  for  your  interest  and 
safety  are  not  more  deeply  gaged  than  our  own." 

From  the  tone  in  which  this  was  spoken,  John  saw  the 
necessity  of  acquiescence.  "I  did  but  jest,"  he  said; 
"and  you  turn  upon  me  like  so  many  adders!  Name 
whom  you  will,  in  the  fiend's  name,  and  please  your- 
selves." 

"  Nay,  nay,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  let  the  fair  sovereign's 
throne  remain  unoccupied  until  the  conqueror  shall  be 
named,  and  then  let  him  choose  the  lady  by  whom  it 
shall  be  filled.  It  will  add  another  grace  to  his  triumph, 
and  teach  fair  ladies  to  prize  the  love  of  valiant  knights, 
who  can  exalt  them  to  such  distinction," 


IVANHOE.  81 

"  If  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  gain  the  prize,"  said  the 
Prior,  "  I  will  gage  my  rosary  that  I  name  the  Sovereign 
of  Love  and  Beauty."  £'f 

"  Bois-Guilbert,"  answered  De  Bracy,  "  is  a  good  lance ; 
but  there  are  others  around  these  lists,  Sir  Prior,  who 
will  not  fear  to  encounter  him." 

"  Silence,  sirs,"  said  Waldemar,  "  and  let  the  Prince 
assume  his  seat.  The  knights  and  spectators  are  alike 
impatient,  the  time  advances,  and  highly  fit  it  is  that 
the  sports  should  commence." 

Prince  John,  though  not  yet  a  monarch,  had  in  Walde- 
mar Fitzurse  all  the  inconveniences  of  a  favourite  minis- 
ter, who,  in_serving  Jhjs^  sovereign,  must  always  do  so  in 
his  own  way.  The  Prince  acquiesced,  however,  although 
his  disposition  was  precisely  of  that  kind  which  is  apt 
to  be  obstinate  upon  trifles,  and,  assuming  his  throne, 
and  being  surrounded  by  his  followers,  gave  signal  to 
the  heralds  to  proclaim  the  laws  of  the  tournament, 
which  were  briefly  as  follows: 

First,  the  five  challengers  were  to  undertake  all  comers. 

Secondly,  any  knight  proposing  to  combat  might,  if  he 
pleased,  select  a  special  antagonist  from  among  the  chal- 
lengers, by  touching  his  shield.  If  he  did  so  with  the 
reverse  of  his  lance,  the  trial  of  skill  was  made  with 
what  were  called  the  arms  of  courtesy,  that  is,  with 
lances  at  whose  extremity  a  rjiece  of  round  flat  board 
was  fixed,  so  that  no  danger  was  encountered,  save  from 
the  shock  of  the  horses  and  riders.  But  if  the  shield 
was  touched  with  the  sharp  end  of  the  lance,  the  combat 
was  understood  to  be  at  outrance,  that  is,  the  knights  .^ 
were  to  fight  with  sharp  weapons,  as  in  actual  battle. 

Thirdly,  when  the  knights  present  had  accomplished 

_^J^ their  vow,  by   each  of   them  breaking  five  lances,   the 

Prince  was  to  declare  the  victor  in  the  first  day's  tourney, 

who   should   receive   as   prize   a  war-horse  of   exquisite 

beauty  and  matchless  strength;  and  in  addition  to  this 

reward  of  valour,  it  was  now  declared,  he  should  have 

the  peculiar  honour  of  naming  the  Queen  of  Love  and 

A    Beauty,  by  whom  the  prize  should  be  given  on  the  ensu-     tl  ^f 

^     ing  day.     Fourthly,  it  was  announced  that,  on  the  second 


G 


n 


82  IVANHOE. 

day,  there  should  be  a  general  tournament,  in  which  ah 
the*  knights  present,  who  were  desirous  to  win  praise, 
might  take  part;  and  being  divided  into  two  bands,  of 
equal  numbers,  might  fight  it  out  manfully  until  the 
signal  was  given  by  Prince  John  to  cease  the  combat. 
The  elected  Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty  was  then  to  crown 
the  knight  whom  the  Prince  should  adjudge  to  have  borne 
himself  best  in  this  second  day,  with  a  coronet  com- 
posed of  thin  gold  plate,  cut  into  the  shape  of  a  laurel 
crown.  On  this  second  day  the  knightly  games  ceased. 
But  on  that  which  was  to  follow,  (eats  of  archery,  of  bull- 
baiting,  and  other  popular  amusements  were  to  be  prac- 
tised, for  the  more  immediate  amusement  of  the  populace. 
In  this  manner  did  Prince  John  endeavour  to  lay  the 
foundation  of  a  popularity  which  he  was  perpetually 
throwing  down  by  some  inconsiderate  act  of  wanton 
aggression  upon  the  feelings  and  prejudices  of  the  people. 

The  lists  now  presented  a  most  splendid  spectacle. 
The  sloping  galleries  were  crowded  with  all  that  was 
noble,  great,  wealthy,  and  beautiful  in  the  northern  and 
midland  parts  of  England ;  and  the  contrast  of  the  vari- 
ous dresses  of  these  dignified  spectators  rendered  the 
view  as  gay  as  it  was  rich,  while  the  interior  and  lower 
space,  filled  with  the  substantial  burgesses  and  yeomen 
of  merry,  England,  formed,  in  their  more  plain  attire,  a 
dark  fringe,  or  border,  around  this  circle  of  brilliant  em- 
broidery, relieving,  and  at  the  same  time  setting  off,  its 
splendour. 

The  heralds  finished  their  proclamation  with  their 
usual  cry  of  "  Largesse,  largesse,  gallant  knights  ! ''  and 
gold  and  silver  pieces  were  showered  on  them  from  the 
galleries,  it  being  a  high  point  of  chivalry  to  exhibit  lib- 
erality towards  those  whom  the  age  accounted  at  once  the 
secretaries  and  the  historians  of  honour.  The  bounty  of  the 
spectators  was  acknowledged  by  the  customary  shouts  of 
"  Love  of  ladies  —  Death  of  champions  —  Honour  to  the 
generous  —  Glory  to  the  brave  !  "  To  which  the  more 
humble  spectators  added  their  acclamations,  and  a  num- 
erous band  of  trumpeters  the  flourish  of  their  martial 
instruments.     When  these  sounds  had  ceased,  the  heralds 


■a  - 


IVANHOE.  83 

withdrew  from  the  lists  in  gay  and  glittering  proces- 
sion, and  none  remained  within  them  save  the  marshals 
of  the'  field,  who,  armed  cap-a-pie,  sat  on  horseback, 
motionless  as  statues,  at  the  opposite  ends  of  the  lists. 
Meantime,  the  enclosed  space  at  the  northern  extremity 
of  the  lists,  large  as  it  was,  was  now  completely  crowded 
with  knights  desirous  to  prove  their  skill  against  the 
challengers,  and,  when  viewed  from  the  galleries,  pre- 
sented the  appearance  of  a  sea  of  waving  plumage,  in- 
termixed with  glistening  helmets  and  tall  lances,  to  the 
extremities  of  which  were,  in  many  cases,  attached  small 
pennons  of  about  a  span's  breadth,  which,  fluttering  in 
the  air  as  the  breeze  caught  them,  joined  with  the  rest- 
less motion  of  the  feathers  to  add  liveliness  to  the  scene. 
At  length  the  barriers  were  opened,  and  five  knights, 
chosen  by  lot,  advanced  slowly  into  the  area;  a  single 
champion  riding  in  front,  and  the  other  four  following  in 
pairs.  All  were  splendidly  armed,  and  my  Saxon  author- 
ity (in  the  Wardour  Manuscript)  records  at  great  length 
their  devices,  their  colours,  and  the  embroidery  of  their 
horse  trappings.  It  is  unnecessary  to  be  particular  on 
these  subjects.  To  borrow  lines  from  a  contemporary 
poet,  who  has  written  but  too  little  — 

"  The  knights  are  dust, 
And  their  good  swords  are  rust, 
Their  souls  are  with  the  saints,  we  trust." 

Their  escutcheons  have  long  mouldered  from  the  walls 
of  their  castles.  Their  castles  themselves  are  but  green 
mounds  and  shattered  ruins  —  the  place  that  once  knew 
them  knows  them  no  more  —  nay,  many  a  race  since 
theirs  has  died  out  and  been  forgotten  in  the  very  land 
which  they  occupied  with  all  the  authority  of  feudal  pro- 
prietors and  feudal  lords.  What,  then,  would  it  avail  the 
reader  to  know  their  names,  or  the  evanescent  symbols 
of  their  martial  rank  ? 

Now,  however,  no  whit  anticipating  the  oblivion  which 
awaited  their  names  and  feats,  the  champions  advanced 
through  the  lists,  restraining  their  fiery  steeds,  and  com- 
pelling them  to  move  slowly,  while,  at  the  same  time, 


84  IVANHOE. 

they  exhibited  their  paces,  together  with  the  grace  and 
dexterity  of  the  riders.  As  the  procession  entered  the 
lists,  the  sound  of  a  wild  barbaric  music  was  heard  from 
behind  the  tents  of  the  challengers,  where  the  performers 
were  concealed.  It  was  of  Eastern  origin,  having  been 
brought  from  the  Holy  Land  ;  and  the  mixture  of  the 
cymbals  and  bells  seemed  to  bid  welcome  at  once,  and 
defiance,  to  the  knights  as  they  advanced.  With  the  eyes 
of  an  immense  concourse  of  spectators  fixed  upon  them, 
the  five  knights  advanced  up  the  platform  upon  which 
the  tents  of  the  challengers  stood,  and  there  separating 
themselves,  each  touched  slightly,  and  with  the  re- 
verse of  his  lance,  the  shield  of  the  antagonist  to  whom 
he  wished  to  oppose  himself.  The  lower  orders  of  spec- 
tators in  general  —  nay,  many  of  the  higher  class,  and  it 
is  even  said  several  of  the  ladies  —  were  rather  disap- 
pointed at  the  champions  choosing  the  arms  of  courtesy. 
For  the  same  sort  of  persons  who,  in  the  present  day, 
applaud  most  highly  the  deepest  tragedies  were  then 
interested  in  a  tournament  exactly  in  proportion  to  the 
danger  incurred  by  the  champions  engaged. 

Having  intimated  their  more  pacific  purpose,  the  cham- 
pions retreated  to  the  extremity  of  the  lists,  where  they 
remained  drawn  up  in  a  line ;  while  the  challengers, 
sallying  each  from  his  pavilion,  mounted  their  horses, 
and,  headed  by  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  descended  from 
the  platform  and  opposed  themselves  individually  to  the 
knights  who  had  touched  their  respective  shields. 

At  the  flourish  of  clarions  and  trumpets,  they  started 
out  against  each  other  at  full  gallop ;  and  such  was  the 
superior  dexterity  or  good  fortune  of  the  challengers,  that 
those  opposed  to  Bois-Guilbert,  Malvoisin,  and  Front-de- 
Boeuf  rolled  on  the  ground.  The  antagonist  of  Grant- 
mesnil,  instead  of  bearing  his  lance-point  fair  against  the 
crest  or  the  shield  of  his  enemy,  swerved  so  much  from 
the  direct  line  as  to  break  the  weapon  athwart  the  person 
of  his  opponent  —  a  circumstance  which  was  accounted 
more  disgraceful  than  that  of  being  actually  unhorsed, 
because  the  latter  might  happen  from  a  icident,  whereas 
the  former  evinced  awkwardness  and  want  of  manage- 


IVANHOE.  85 

ment  of  the  weapon  and  of  the  horse.  The  fifth  knight 
alone  maintained  the  honour  of  his  party,  and  parted 
fairly  with  the  Knight  of  St.  John,  both  splintering  their 
lances  without  advantage  on  either  side. 

The  shouts  of  the  multitude,  together  with  the  acclama- 
tions of  the  heralds  and  the  clangour  of  the  trumpets, 
announced  the  triumph  of  the  victors  and  the  defeat  of 
the  vanquished.  The  former  retreated  to  their  pavilions, 
and  the  latter,  gathering  themselves  up  as  they  could, 
withdrew  from  the  lists  in  disgrace  and  dejection,  to 
agree  with  their  victors  concerning  the  redemption  of 
their  arms  and  their  horses,  which,  according  to  the  laws 
of  the  tournament,  they  had  forfeited.  The  fifth  of  their 
number  alone  tarried  in  the  lists  long  enough  to  be 
greeted  by  the  applauses  of  the  spectators,  amongst  whom 
he  retreated,  to  the  aggravation,  doubtless,  of  his  com- 
panions' mortification. 

A  second  and  a  third  party  of  knights  took  the  field ; 
and  although  they  had  various  success,  yet,  upon  the 
whole,  the  advantage  decidedly  remained  with  the  chal- 
lengers, not  one  of  whom  lost  his  seat  or  swerved  from  his 
charge  —  misfortunes  which  befell  one  or  two  of  their 
antagonists  in  each  encounter.  The  spirits,  therefore,  of 
those  opposed  to  them  seemed  to  be  considerably  damped 
by  their  continued  success.  Three  knights  only  appeared 
on  the  fourth  entry,  who,  avoiding  the  shields  of  Bois- 
G-uilbert  and  Front-de-Boeuf,  contented  themselves  with 
touching  those  of  the  three  other  knights  who  had  not  alto- 
gether manifested  the  same  strength  and  dexterity.  This 
politic  selection  did  not  alter  the  fortune  of  the  field :  the 
challengers  were  still  successful.  One  of  their  antago- 
nists was  overthrown ;  and  both  the  others  failed  in  the 
attaint,  that  is,  in  striking  the  helmet  and  shield  of  their 
antagonist  firmly  and  strongly,  with  the  lance  held  in  a 
direct  line,  so  that  the  weapon  might  break  unless  the 
champion  was  overthrown. 

After  this  fourth  encounter,  there  was  a  considerable 
pause  y  nor  did  it  appear  that  any  one  was  very  desirous 
of  renewing  the  contest.  The  spectators  murmured 
among  themselves  j  for,  among  the  challengers,  Malvoi- 


86  IVANHOE. 

sin  and  Front-de-Boeuf  were  unpopular  from  their  char- 
acters, and  the  others,  except  Grantmesnil,  were  disliked 
as  strangers  and  foreigners. 

But  none  shared  the  general  feeling  of  dissatisfaction 
so  keenly  as  Cedric  the  Saxon,  who  saw,  in  each  advan- 
tage gained  by  the  Norman  challengers,  a  repeated  tri- 
umph over  the  honour  of  England.  His  own  education 
had  taught  him  no  skill  in  the  games  of  chivalry,  al- 
though, with  the  arms  of  his  Saxon  ancestors,  he  had 
manifested  himself,  on  many  occasions,  a  brave  and 
determined  soldier.  He  looked  anxiously  to  Athelstane, 
who  had  learned  the  accomplishments  of  the  age,  as  if 
desiring  that  he  should  make  some  personal  effort  to 
recover  the  victory  which  was  passing  into  the  hands  of 
the  Templar  and  his  associates.  But,  though  both  stout 
of  heart  and  strong  of  person,  Athelstane  had  a  disposi- 
tion too  inert  and  unambitious  to  make  the  exertions 
which  Cedric  seemed  to  expect  from  him. 

"The  day  is  against  England,  my  lord,"  said  Cedric, 
in  a  marked  tone ;  "  are  you  not  tempted  to  take  the 
lance  ?  " 

"  I  shall  tilt  to-morrow,"  answered  Athelstane,  "  in  the 
melee  ;   it  is  not  worth  while  for  me  to  arm  myself  to-day." 

Two  things  displeased  Cedric  in  this  speech.  It  con- 
tained the  Norman  word  melee  (to  express  the  general 
conflict),  and  it  evinced  some  indifference  to  the  honour 
of  the  country ;  but  it  was  spoken  by  Athelstane,  whom 
he  held  in  such  profound  respect  that  he  would  not  trust 
himself  to  canvass  his  motives  or  his  foibles.  Moreover, 
he  had  no  time  to  make  any  remark,  for  Wamba  thrust 
in  his  word,  observing,  "It  was  better,  though  scarce 
easier,  to  be  the  best  man  among  a  hundred  than  the 
best  man  of  two." 

Athelstane  took  the  observation  as  a  serious  compli- 
ment; but  Cedric,  who  better  understood  the  Jester's 
meaning,  darted  at  him  a  severe  and  menacing  look  ;  and 
lucky  it  was  for  Wamba,  perhaps,  that  the  time  and 
place  prevented  his  receiving,  notwithstanding  his  place 
and  service,  more  sensible  marks  of  his  master's  resent- 
ment. 


IYANHOE.  87 

The  pause  in  the  tournament  was  still  uninterrupted, 
excepting  by  the  voices  cf  the  heralds  exclaiming,  "  Love 
of  ladies,  splintering  of  lances !  stand  forth,  gallant 
knights,  fair  eyes  look  upon  your  deeds ! " 

The  music  also  of  the  challengers  breathed  from  time 
to  time  wild  bursts  expressive  of  triumph  or  defiance, 
while  the  clowns  grudged  a  holiday  which  seemed  to  pass 
away  in  inactivity ;  and  old  knights  and  nobles  lamented 
in  whispers  the  decay  of  martial  spirit,  spoke  of  the 
triumphs  of  their  younger  days,  but  agreed  that  the  land 
did  not  now  supply  dames  of  such  transcendent  beauty 
as  had  animated  the  jousts  of  former  times.  Prince 
John  began  to  talk  to  his  attendants  about  making  ready 
the  banquet,  and  the  necessity  of  adjudging  the  prize  to 
Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  who  had,  with  a  single  spear,  over- 
thrown two  knights  and  foiled  a  third. 

At  length,  as  the  Saracenic  music  of  the  challengers 
concluded  one  of  those  long  and  high  flourishes  with  which 
they  had  broken  the  silence  of  the  lists,  it  was  answered 
by  a  solitary  trumpet,  which  breathed  a  note  of  defiance 
from  the  northern  extremity.  All  eyes  were  turned  to 
see  the  new  champion  which  these  sounds  announced, 
and  no  sooner  were  the  barriers  opened  than  he  paced 
into  the  lists.  As  far  as  could  be  judged  of  a  man  sheathed 
in  armour,  the  new  adventurer  did  not  greatly  exceed  the 
middle  size,  and  seemed  to  be  rather  slender  than  strongly 
made.  His  suit  of  armour  was  formed  of  steel,  richly 
inlaid  with  gold,  and  the  device  on  his  shield  was  a  young 
oak  tree  pulled  up  by  the  roots,  with  the  Spanish  word 
Desdichado,  signifying  Disinherited.  He  was  mounted 
on  a  gallant  black  horse,  and  as  he  passed  through  the 
lists  he  gracefully  saluted  the  Prince  and  the  ladies  by 
lowering  his  lance.  The  dexterity  with  which  he  man- 
aged his  steed,  and  something  of  youthful  grace  which  he 
displayed  in  his  manner,  won  him  the  favour  of  the  mul- 
titude, which  some  of  the  lower  classes  expressed  by  call- 
ing out,  "Touch  Ralph  de  Vipont's  shield  —  touch  the 
Hospitaller's  shield ;  he  has  the  least  sure  seat,  he  is  your 
cheapest  bargain." 

The  champion,  moving  onward  amid  these  well-meant 


88  IVANHOE. 

hints,  ascended  the  platform  by  the  sloping  alley  which 
led  to  it  from  the  lists,  and  to  the  astonishment  of  all 
present,  riding  straight  np  to  the  central  pavilion,  struck 
with  the  sharp  end  of  his  spear  the  shield  of  Brian  de 
Bois-Guilbert  until  it  rang  again.  All  stood  astonished 
at  his  presumption,  but  none  more  than  the  redoubted 
knight  whom  he  had  thus  defied  to  mortal  combat,  and 
who,  little  expecting  so  rude  a  challenge,  was  standing 
carelessly  at  the  door  of  the  pavilion. 

"  Have  you  confessed  yourself,  brother,"  said  the  Tem- 
plar, "and  have  you  heard  mass  this  morning,  that  you 
peril  your  life  so  frankly  ?  "    ,  ft  [ 

"  I  am  fitter  to  meet  death  than  thou  art,"  answered 
the  Disinherited  Knight ;  for  by  this  name  the  stranger 
had  recorded  himself  in  the  books  of  the  tourney. 

"  Then  take  your  place  in  the  lists,"  said  Bois-G-uiibert, 
"  and  look  your  last  upon  the  sun ;  for  this  night  thou 
shalt  sleep  in  paradise." 

"  Gramercy  for  thy  courtesy,"  replied  the  Disinherited 
Knight,  "  and  to  requite  it,  I  advise  thee  to  take  a  fresh 
tiorse  and  a  new  lance,  for  by  my  honour  you  will  need 
both." 

Having  expressed  himself  thus  confidently,  he  reined 
his  horse  backward  down  the  slope  which  he  had  ascended, 
and  compelled  him  in  the  same  manner  to  move  backward 
through  the  lists,  till  he  reached  the  northern  extremity, 
where  he  remained  stationary ,  in  expectation  of  his  an- 
tagonist. This  feat  of  horsemanship  again  attracted  the 
applause  of  the  multitude. 

However  incensed  at  his  adversary  for  the  precautions 
which  he  recommended,  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  did  not 
neglect  his  advice ;  for  his  honour  was  too  nearly  con- 
cerned to  permit  his  neglecting  any  means  which  might 
ensure  victory  over  his  presumptuous  opponent.  He 
changed  his  horse  for  a  proved  and  fresh  one  of  great 
strength  and  spirit.  He  chose  a  new  and  tough  spear, 
lest  the  wood  of  the  former  might  have  been  strained  in 
the  previous  encounters  he  had  sustained.  Lastly,  he 
laid  aside  his  shield,  which  had  received  some  little 
damage,  and  received  another  from  his  squires.     His  first 


^"trticl^.^'rtj'e  sf^arf^  cruA  of  lj,s-  sloear 
ltj«,  shield  ofj^ri'an  de  fSors-^mlkerr* 


^5 


X 


t^^A.. 


IVANHOE.  89 

had  only  borne  the  general  device  of  his  rider,  represent- 
ing two  knights  riding  upon  one  horse,  an  emblem  ex- 
pressive of  the  original  humility  and  poverty  of  the  Tem- 
plars, qualities  which  they  had  since  exchanged  for  the 
arrogance  and  wealth  that  finally  occasioned  their  sup- 
pression. Bois-Guilbert's  new  shield  bore  a  raven  in  full 
flight,  holding  in  its  claws  a  skull,  and  bearing  the  motto, 
Gave  le  Oorbeau.    \^  n&A/j^ 

When  the  two  champions  stood  opposed  to  each  other 
at  the  two  extremities  of  the  lists,  the  public  expectation 
was  strained  to  the  highest  pitch.  Few  augured  the  pos- 
sibility that  the  encounter  could  terminate  well  for  the 
Disinherited  Knight;  yet  his  courage  and  gallantry  se- 
cured the  general  good  wishes  of  the  spectators. 

The  trumpets  had  no  sooner  given  the  signal,  than  the 
champions  vanished  from  their  posts  with  the  speed  of 
lightning,  and  closed  in  the  centre  of  the  lists  with  the 
shock  of  a  thunderbolt.  The  lances  burst  into  shivers  up 
to  the  very  grasp,  and  it  seemed  at  the  moment  that  both 
knights  had  fallen,  for  the  shock  had  made  each  horse 
recoil  backwards  upon  its  haunches.  The  address  of  the 
riders  recovered  their  steeds  by  use  of  the  bridle  and 
spur ;  and  having  glared  on  each  other  for  an  instant 
with  eyes  which  seemed  to  flash  fire  through  the  bars  of 
their  visors,  each  made  a  demi-volte.  and,  retiring  to  the  ' 
extremity  of  the  lists,  received  a  fresh  lance  from  the 
attendants. 

A  loud  shout  from  the  spectators,  waving  of  scarfs  and 
handkerchiefs,  and  general  acclamations,  attested  the  in- 
terest taken  by  the  spectators  in  this  encounter  —  the 
most  equal,  as  well  as  the  best  performed,  which  had 
graced  the  day.  But  no  sooner  had  the  knights  resumed 
their  station  than  the  clamour  of  applause  was  hushed 
into  a  silence  so  deep  and  so  dead  that  it  seemed  the  mul- 
titude were  afraid  even  to  breathe. 

A  few  minutes'  pause  having  been  allowed,  that  the 
combatants  and  their  horses  might  recover  breath,  Prince  . 
•John  with  his  truncheon  signed  to  the  trumpets  to  sound 
the  onset.     The  champions  a  second  time  sprung  from 
their  stations,  and  closed  in  the  centre  of  the  lists,  with 


90  IVANHOE. 

the  same  speed,  the  same  dexterity,  the  same  violence, 
but  not  the  same  equal  fortune  as  before. 

In  this  second  encounter,  the  Templar  aimed  at  the 
centre  of  his  antagonist's  shield,  and  struck  it  so  fair  and 
forcibly  that  his  spear  went  to  shivers,  and  the  Disinherited 
Knight  reeled  in  his  saddle.  On  the  other  hand,  that 
champion  had,  in  the  beginning  of  his  career,  directed  the 
point  of  his  lance  towards  Bois-Guilbert's  shield,  but, 
changing  his  aim  almost  in  the  moment  of  encounter,  he 
addressed  it  to  the  helmet,  a  mark  more  difficult  to  hit, 
but  which,  if  attained,  rendered  the  shock  more  irresist- 
ible. Fair  and  true  he  hit  the  Norman  on  the  visor, 
where  his  lance's  point  kept  hold  of  the  bars.  Yet,  even 
at  this  disadvantage,  the  Templar  sustained  his  high  repu- 
tation; and  had  not  the  girths  of  his  saddle  burst,  he 
might  not  have  been  unhorsed.  As  it  chanced,  however, 
saddle,  horse,  and  man  rolled  on  the  ground  under  a  cloud 
of  dust. 

To  extricate  himself  from  the  stirrups  and  fallen  steed 
was  to  the  Templar  scarce  the  work  of  a  moment ;  and, 
stung  with  madness,  both  at  his  disgrace  and  at  the  ac- 
clamations with  which  it  was  hailed  by  the  spectators, 
he  drew  his  sword  and  waved  it  in  defiance  of  his 
conqueror.  The  Disinherited  Knight  sprung  from  his 
steed,  and  also  unsheathed  his  sword.  The  marshals  of 
the  field,  however,  spurred  their  horses  between  themr 
and  reminded  them  that  the  laws  of  the  tournament 
did  not,  on  the  present  occasion,  permit  this  species  of 
encounter. 

"  We  shall  meet  again,  I  trust,"  said  the  Templar,  cast- 
ing a  resentful  glance  at  his  antagonist;  "and  where 
there  are  none  to  separate  us." 

"If  we  do  not,"  said  the  Disinherited  Knight,  "the 
fault  shall  not  be  mine.  On  foot  or  horseback,  with 
spear,  with  axe,  or  with  sword,  I  am  alike  ready  to  en- 
counter thee." 

More  and  angrier  words  would  have  been  exchanged, 
but  the  marshals,  crossing  their  lances  betwixt  them, 
compelled  them  to  separate.  The  Disinherited  Knight 
returned  to  his  first  station,  and  Bois-Guilbert  to  his  tent, 


IVANHOE.  91 

where  he  remained  for  the  rest  of  the  day  in  an  agony  of 

despair.  s3ffi 

Without  alighting  from  his  horse,  the  conqueror  called 
for  a  bowl  of  wine,  and  opening  the  beaver,  or  lower  part 
of  his  helmet,  announced  that  he  quaffed  it,  "  To  all  true 
English  hearts,  and  to  the  confusion  of  foreign  tyrants." 
He  then  commanded  his  trumpet  to  sound  a  defiance  to 
the  challengers,  and  desired  a  herald  to  announce  to  them 
that  he  should  make  no  election,  but  was  willing  to  en- 
counter them  in  the  order  in  which  they  pleased  to 
advance  against  him. 

The  gigantic  Front-de-Boeuf,  armed  in  sable  armour, 
was  thr  first  who, took  the  field.  He  bore  on  a  white 
shield  a  black  bull's  head,  half  defaced  by  the  numerous 
encounters  which  he  had  undergone,  and  bearing  the 
arrogant  motto,  Cave,  Adsum.  Over  this  champion  the 
Disinherited  Knight  obtained  a  slight  but  decisive  advan- 
tage. Both  knights  broke  their  lances  fairly,  but  Front- 
de-Boeuf,  who  lost  a  stirrup  in. the  encounter,  was  adjudged 
to  have  the  disadvantage.  7 ' 

In  the  stranger's  third  encounter  with  Sir  Philip  Mal- 
voisin  he  was  equally  successful ;  striking  that  baron  so 
forcibly  on  the  casque  that  the  laces  of  the  helmet  broke, 
and  Malvoisin,  only  saved  from  falling  by  being  unhel- 
meted,  was  declared  vanquished  like  his  companions. 

In  his  fourth  combat  with  De  Grantmesnil,  the  Dis- 
inherited Knight  showed  as  much  courtesy  as  he  had 
hitherto  evinced  courage  and  dexterity.  De  Grantmesnil's 
horse,  which  was  young  and  violent,  reared  and  plunged 
in  the  course  of  the  career  so  as  to  disturb  the  rider's 
aim,  and  the  stranger,  declining  to  take  the  advantage 
which  this  accident  afforded  him,  raised  his  lance,  and 
passing  his  antagonist  without  touching  him,  wheeled 
his  horse  and  rode  back  again  to  his  own  end  of  the  lists, 
offering  his  antagonist,  by  a  herald,  the  chance  of  a  second 
encounter.  This  De  Grantmesnil  declined,  avowing  him- 
self vanquished  as  much  by  the  courtesy  as  by  the  address 
of  his  opponent. 

Ralph  de  Vipont  summed  up  the  list  of  the  stranger's 
triumphs,  being  hurled  to  the  ground  with  such  force 


92  IV AN  HOE. 

that  the  blood  gushed  from  his  nose  and  his  mouth,  and 
he  was  borne  senseless  from  the  lists. 

The  acclamations  of  thousands  applauded  the  unani- 
mous award  of  the  Prince  and  marshals,  announcing  that 
day's  honours  to  the  Disinherited  Knight. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

In  the  midst  was  seen 
A  lady  of  a  more  majestic, mien, 
By  stature  and  by  beauty  mark'd  their  sovereign  Queen. 

•  •••*••» 

And  as  in  beauty  she  surpassed  the  choir, 
So  nobler  than  the  rest  was  her  attire  ; 
A  crown  of  ruddy  gold  enclosed  her  brow, 
Plain  without  pomp,  and  rich  without  a  show  ; 
A  branch  of  Agnus  Castus  in  her  hand, 
She  bore  aloft  her  symbol  of  command. 

The  Flower  and  the  Leaf. 

William  de  Wyvil  and  Stephen  de  Martival,  the 
marshals  of  the  field,  were  the  first  to  offer  their  con- 
gratulations to  the  victor,  praying  him,  at  the  same  time, 
to  suffer  his  helmet  to  be  unlaced,  or,  at  least,  that  he 
would  raise  his  visor  ere  they  conducted  him  to  receive 
the  prize  of  the  day's  tourney  from  the  hands  of  Prince 
John.  The  Disinherited  Knight,  with  all  knightly  cour- 
tesy, declined  their  request,  alleging,  that  he  could  not 
at  this  time  suffer  his  face  to  be  seen,  for  reasons  which 
he  had  assigned  to  the  heralds  when  he  entered  the  lists. 
The  marshals  were  perfectly  satisfied  by  this  reply ;  for 
amidst  the  frequent  and  capricious  vows  by  which  knights 
were  accustomed  to  bind  themselves  in  the  days  of  chiv- 
alry, there  were  none  more  common  than  those  by  which 
they  engaged  to  remain  incognito  for  a  certain  space,  or 
until  some  particular  adventure  was  achieved.  The  mar- 
shals, therefore,  pressed  no  farther  into  the  mystery  of 
the  Disinherited  Knight,  but,  announcing  to  Prince  John 
the  conqueror's  desire  to  remain  unknown,  they  requested 
permission  to  bring  him  before  his  Grace,  in  order  that 
he  might  receive  the  reward  of  his  valour. 


IVANHOE.  93 

John's  curiosity  was  excited  by  the  mystery  observed 
by  the  stranger ;  and,  being  already  displeased  with  the 
issue  of  the  tournament,  in  which  the  challengers  whom 
he  favoured  had  been  successively  defeated  by  one  knight, 
he  answered  haughtily  to  the  marshals,  "  By  the  light  of 
Our  Lady's  brow,  this  same  knight  hath  been  disinherited 
as  well  of  his  courtesy  as  of  his  lands,  since  he  desires  to 
appear  before  us  without  uncovering  his  face.  —  Wot  ye, 
my  lords,"  he  said,  turning  round  to  his  train,  "  who  this 
gallant  can  be  that  bears  himself  thus  proudly  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  guess,"  answered  De  Bracy,  "  nor  did  I  think 
there  had  been  within  the  four  seas  that  girth  Britain  a 
champion  that  could  bear  down  these  five  knights  in  one 
day's  jousting.  By  my  faith,  I  shall  never  forget  the 
force  with  which  he  shocked  De  Vipont.  The  poor  Hos- 
pitaller was  hurled  from  his  saddle  like  a  stone  from  a 
sling." 

"  Boast  not  of  that,"  said  a  Knight  of  St.  John  who 
was  present ;  "  your  Temple  champion  had  no  better  luck. 
I  saw  your  brave  lance,  Bois-Guilbert,  roll  thrice  over, 
grasping  his  hands  full  of  sand  at  every  turn." 

De  Bracy,  being  attached  to  the  Templars,  would  have 
replied,  but  was  prevented  by  Prince  John.  "  Silence, 
sirs!"  he  said;  "what  unprofitable  debate  have  we  here?" 

"  The  victor,"  said  De  Wyvil,  "  still  waits  the  pleasure 
of  your  Highness." 

"It  is  our  pleasure,"  answered  John,  "that  he  do  so 
wait  until  we  learn  whether  there  is  not  some  one  who 
can  at  least  guess  at  his  name  and  quality.  Should  he 
remain  there  till  nightfall,  he  has  had  work  enough  to 
keep  him  warm."  J? 

"  Your  Grace,"  said  ,Waldemar  Fitzurse,  "  will  do  less 
than  due  honour  to  the  victor  if  you  compel  him  to  wait 
till  we  tell  your  Highness  that  which  we  cannot  know  ; 
at  least  I  can  form  no  guess  —  unless  he  be  one  of  the 
good  lances  who  accompanied  King  Richard  to  Palestine, 
and  who  are  now  straggling  homeward  from  the  Holy 
Land." 

"It  may  be  the  Earl  of  Salisbury,"  said  De  Bracy; 
"he  is  about  the  same  pitch." 


94  I  VAN  HOE. 

"  Sir  Thomas  de  Multon,  the  Knight  of  Gilsland, 
rather,"  said  Fitzurse ;  "  Salisbury  is  bigger  in  the 
bones."  A  whisper  arose  among  the  train,  but  by  whom 
first  suggested  could  not  be  ascertained.  "  It  might  be 
the  King —  it  might  be  Richard  Cceur-de-Lion  himself  !  " 

"  Over  God's  forbode  !  "  said  Prince  John,  involuntarily 
turning  at  the  same  time  as  pale  as  death,  and  shrinking 
as  if  blighted  by  a  flash  of  lightning ;  "  Waldemar  !  De 
Bracy  !  brave  knights  and  gentlemen,  remember  your 
promises,  and  stand  truly  by  me  !  " 

"  Here  is  no  danger  impending,"  said  Waldemar  Fitz- 
urse ;  "  are  you  so  little  acquainted  with  the  gigantic 
limbs  of  your  father's  son,  as  to  think  they  can  be  held 
within  the  circumference  of  yonder  suit  of  armour  ?  — 
De  Wyvil  and  Martival,  you  will  best  serve  the  Prince 
by  bringing  forward  the  victor  to  the  throne,  and  ending 
an  error  that  has  conjured  all  the  blood  from  his  cheeks. 
—  Look  at  him  more  closely,"  he  continued ;  "  your  High- 
ness will  see  that  he  wants  three  inches  of  King  Richard's 
height,  and  twice  as  much  of  his  shoulder  breadth.  The 
very  horse  he  backs  could  not  have  carried  the  ponderous 
weight  of  King  Richard  through  a  single  course." 

While  he  was  yet  speaking,  the  marshals  brought  for- 
ward the  Disinherited  Knight  to  the  foot  of  a  wooden 
flight  of  steps,  which  formed  the  ascent  from  the  lists  to 
Prince  John's  throne.  Still  discomposed  with  the  idea 
that  his  brother,  so  muc'h  injured,  and  to  whom  he  was 
so  much  indebted,  had  suddenly  arrived  in  his  native 
kingdom,  even  the  distinctions  pointed  out  by  Fitzurse 
did  not  altogether  remove  the  Prince's  apprehensions; 
and,  while,  with  a  short  and  embarrassed  eulogy  upon 
his  valour,  he  caused  to  be  delivered  to  him  the  war- 
horse  assigned  as  the  prize,  he  trembled  lest  from  the 
barred  visor  of  the  mailed  form  before  him  an  answer 
might  be  returned  in  the  deep  and  awful  accents  of 
Richard  the  Lion-hearted. 

But  the  Disinherited  Knight  spoke  not  a  word  in 
reply  to  the  compliment  of  the  Prince,  which  he  only 
acknowledged  with  a  profound  obeisance. 

The  horse  was  led  into  the  lists  by  two  grooms  richly 


IVANHOE.  95 

dressed,  the  animal  itself  being  fully  accoutred  with  the 
richest  war-furniture  ;  which,  however,  scarcely  added  to 
the  value  of  the  noble  creature  in  the  eyes  of  those  who 
were  judges.  Laying  one  hand  upon  the  pommel  of  the 
saddle,  the  Disinherited  Knight  vaulted  at  once  upon  the 
back  of  the  steed  without  making  use  of  the  stirrup,  and, 
brandishing  aloft  his  lance,  rode  twice  around  the  lists, 
exhibiting  the  points  and  paces  of  the  horse  with  the 
skill  of  a  perfect  horseman. 

The  appearance  of  vanity  which  might  otherwise  have 
been  attributed  to  this  display  was  removed  by  the  pro- 
priety shown  in  exhibiting  to  the  best  advantage  the 
princely  reward  with  which  he  had  been  just  honoured, 
and  the  Knight  was  again  greeted  by  the  acclamations 
of  all  present. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  bustling  Prior  of  Jorvaulx  had 
reminded  Prince  John,  in  a  whisper,  that  the  victor  must 
now  display  his  good  judgment  instead  of  his  valour,  by 
selecting  from  among  the  beauties  who  graced  the  gal- 
leries a  lady  who  should  till  the  throne  of  the  Queen  of 
Beauty  and  of  Love,  and  deliver  the  prize  of  the  tourney 
upon  the  ensuing  day.  The  Prince  accordingly  made  a 
sign  with  his  truncheon  as  the  Knight  passed  him  in  his 
second  career  around  the  lists.  The  Knieht  turned 
towards  the  throne,  and,  sinking  his  lance  until  the  point 
was  within  a  foot  of  the  ground,  remained  motionless,  as 
if  expecting  John's  commands  ;  while  all  admired  the 
sudden  dexterity  with  which  he  instantly  reduced  his 
fiery  steed  from  a  state  of  violent  emotion  and  high  ex- 
citation to  the  stillness  of  an  equestrian  statue. 

"  Sir  Disinherited  Knight,"  said  Prince  John,  "  since 
that  is  the  only  title  by  which  we  can  address  you,  it  is 
now  your  duty,  as  well  as  privilege,  to  name  the  fair 
lady  who,  as  Queen  of  Honour  and  of  Love,  is  to  preside 
over  next  day's  festival.  If,  as  a  stranger  in  our  land, 
you  should  require  the  aid  of  other  judgment  to  guide 
your  own,  we  can  only  say  that  Alicia,  the  daughter  of 
our  gallant  knight  Waldemar  Fitzurse,  has  at  our  court 
been  long  held  the  first  in  beauty  as  in  place.  Never- 
theless, it  is  your   undoubted  prerogative  to  confer  on 


96  IVANHOE. 

whom  you  please  this  crown,  by  the  delivery  of  which  to 
the  lady  of  your  choice  the  election  of  to-morrow's  Queen 
will  be  formal  and  complete.  —  Raise  your  lance." 

The  Knight  obeyed ;  and  Prince  John  placed  upon  its 
point  a  coronet  of  green  satin,  having  around  its  edge  a 
circlet  of  gold,  the  upper  edge  of  which  was  relieved  by 
arrow-points  and  hearts  placed  interchangeably,  like  the 
strawberry  leaves  and  balls  upon  a  ducal  crown. 

In  the  broad  hint  which  he  dropped  respecting  the 
daughter  of  Waldemar  Fitzurse,  John  had  more  than 
one  motive,  each  the  offspring  of  a  mind  which  was  a 
strange  mixture  of  carelessness  and  presumption  with 
low  artifice  and  cunning.  He  wished  to  banish  from  the 
minds  of  the  chivalry  around  him  his  own  indecent  and 
unacceptable  jest  respecting  the  Jewess  Rebecca;  he  was 
desirous  of  conciliating  Alicia's  father,  Waldemar,  of 
whom  he  stood  in  awe,  and  who  had  more  than  once 
shown  himself  dissatisfied  during  the  course  of  the  day's 
proceedings.  He  had  also  a  wish  to  establish  himself  in 
the  good  graces  of  the  lady  ;  for  John  was  at  least  as 
licentious  in  his  pleasures  as  profligate  in  his  ambition. 
But  besides  all  these  reasons,  he  was  desirous  to  raise 
up  against  the  Disinherited  Knight,  towards  whom  he 
already  entertained  a  strong  dislike,  a  powerful  enemy 
in  the  person  of  Waldemar  Fitzurse,  who  was  likely,  he 
thought,  highly  to  resent  the  injury  done  to  his  daughter 
in  case,  as  was  not  unlikely,  the  victor  should  make 
another  choice. 

And  so  indeed  it  proved.  For  the  Disinherited  Knight 
passed  the  gallery,  close  to  that  of  the  Prince,  in  which 
the  Lady  Alicia  was  seated  in  the  full  pride  of  trium- 
phant beauty,  and  pacing  forwards  as  slowly  as  he  had 
hitherto  rode  swiftly  around  the  lists,  he  seemed  to  exer- 
cise his  right  of  examining  the  numerous  fair  faces  which 
adorned  that  splendid  circle. 

It  was  worth  while  to  see  the  different  conduct  of  the 
beauties  who  underwent  this  examination,  during  the 
time  it  was  proceeding.  Some  blushed ;  some  assumed 
an  air  of  pride  and  dignity  ;  some  looked  straight  for- 
ward, and  essayed  to  seem  utterly  unconscious  of  what 


IVANHOE.  97 

was  going  on ;  some  drew  back  in  alarm,  which  was  per- 
haps affected;  some  endeavoured  to  forbear  smiling; 
and  there  were  two  or  three  who  laughed  outright. 
There  were  also  some  who  dropped  their  veils  over  their 
charms  ;  but  as  the  Wardour  Manuscript  says  these  were 
fair  ones  of  ten  years'  standing,  it  may  be  supposed  that, 
having  had  their  full  share  of  such  vanities,  they  were 
willing  to  withdraw  their  claim  in  order  to  give  a  fair 
chance  to  the  rising  beauties  of  the  age. 

,Mj£ngth  the  champion  paused  beneath  the  balcony 
in  which  the  Lady  Eowena  was  placed,  and  the  expecta- 
tion of  the  spectators  was  excited  to  the  utmost. 

It  must  be  owned  that,  if  an  interest  displayed  in  his 
success  could  have  bribed  the  Disinherited  Knight,  the 
part  of  the  lists  before  which  he  paused  had  merited  his 
predilection.  Cedric  the  Saxon,  overjoyed  at  the  dis- 
comfiture of  the  Templar,  and  still  more  so  at  the  mis- 
carriage of  his  two  malevolent  neighbours,  Eront-de-Bceuf 
and  Malvoisin,  had,  with  his  body  half  stretched  over 
the  balcony,  accompanied  the  victor  in  each  course  not 
with  his  eyes  only,  but  with  his  whole  heart  and  soul. 
The  Lady  Rowena  had  watched  the  progress  of  the  day 
with  equal  attention,  though  without  openly  betraying 
the  same  intense  interest.  Even  the  unmoved  Athel- 
stane  had  shown  symptoms  of  shaking  off  his  apathy, 
when,  calling  for  a  huge  goblet  of  muscadine,  he  quaffed 
it  to  the  health  of  the  Disinherited  Knight. 

Another  group,  stationed  under  the  gallery  occupied 
by  the  Saxons,  had  shown  no  less  interest  in  the  fate  of 
the  day. 

"  Father  Abraham  ! "  said  Isaac  of  York,  when  the 
first  course  was  run  betwixt  the  Templar  and  the  Disin- 
herited Knight,  "  how  fiercely  that  Gentile  rides  !  Ah, 
the  good  horse  that  was  brought  all  the  long  way  from 
Barbary,  he  takes  no  more  care  of  him  than  if  he  were  a 
wild  ass's  colt  —  and  the  noble  armour  that  was  worth  so 
many  zecchins  to  Joseph  Pareira,  the  armourer  of  Milan, 
besides  seventy  in  the  hundred  of  profits,  he  cares  for  it 
as  little  as  if  he  had  found  it  in  the  highways  !  " 

"If  he  risks  his  own  person  and  limbs,  father,"  said 


H 


■ 


.■•wC 


98  IV AN  HOE. 

Rebecca,  "  in  doing  such  a  dreadful  battle,  he  can  scarce 
be  expected  to  spare  his  horse  and  armour." 

"  Child ! "  replied  Isaac,  somewhat  heated,  "  thou 
knowest  not  what  thou  speakest.     His  neck  and  limbs 

are  his  own ;   but  his  horse  and  armour  belong  to 

Holy  Jacob !  what  was  I  about  to  say  ?  Nevertheless, 
it  is  a  good  youth.  —  See,  Rebecca !  —  see,  he  is  again 
about  to  go  up  to  battle  against  the  Philistine !  —  Pray, 
child  —  pray  for  the  safety  of  the  good  youth;  and  of 
the  speedy  horse  and  the  rich  armour.  —  God  of  my 
fathers  ! "  he  again  exclaimed,  "  he  hath  conquered,  and 
the  uncircumcised  Philistine  hath  fallen  before  his  lance, 
even  as  Og  the  King  of  Bashan,  and  Sihon,  King  of  the 
Amorites,  fell  before  the  sword  of  our  fathers  !  —  Surely 
he  shall  take  their  gold  and  their  silver,  and  their  war- 
horses,  and  their  armour  of  brass  and  of  steel,  for  a  prey 
and  for  a  spoil." 

The  same  anxiety  did  the  worthy  Jew  display  during 
every  course  that  was  run,  seldom  failing  to  hazard  a 
hasty  calculation  concerning  the  value  of  the  horse  and 
armour  which  were  forfeited  to  the  champion  upon  each 
new  success.  There  had  been  therefore  no  small  interest 
taken  in  the  success  of  the  Disinherited  Knight  by  those 
who  occupied  the  part  of  the  lists  before  which  he  now 
paused. 

Whether  from  indecision  or  some  other  motive  of  hesi- 
tation, the  champion  of  the  day  remained  stationary  for 
more  than  a  minute,  while  the  eyes  of  the  silent  audience 
were  riveted  upon  his  motions ;  and  then,  gradually  and 
gracefully  sinking  the  point  of  his  lance,  he  deposited 
the  coronet  which  it  supported  at  the  feet  of  the  fair 
Rowena.  The  trumpets  instantly  sounded,  while  the 
heralds  proclaimed  the  Lady  Rowena  the  Queen  of  Beauty 
and  of  Love  for  the  ensuing  day,  menacing  with  suitable 
penalties  those  who  should  be  disobedient  to  her  authority. 
They  then  repeated  their  cry  of  Largesse,  to  which  Cedric, 
in  the  height  of  his  joy,  replied  by  an  ample  donative, 
and  to  which  Athelstane,  though  less  promptly,  added 
one  equally  large. 

There   was    some  murmuring   among   the  damsels   of 


IVANHOE.  99 

Norman  descent,  who  were  as  much  unused  to  see  the 
preference  given  to  a  Saxon  beauty  as  the  Norman  nobles 
were  to  sustain  defeat  in  the  games  of  chivalry  which 
they  themselves  had  introduced.  But  these  sounds  of 
disaffection  were  drowned  by  the  popular  shout  of  "  Long 
live  the  Lady  E-owena,  the  chosen  and  lawful  Queen  of 
Love  and  of  Beauty  ! '  To  which  many  in  the  lower  area 
added,  "  Long  live  the  Saxon  Princess  !  long  live  the 
race  of  the  immortal  Alfred  !  " 

However  unacceptable  these  sounds  might  be  to  Prince 
John  and  to  those  around  him,  he  saw  himself  neverthe- 
less obliged  to  confirm  the  nomination  of  the  victor,  and 
accordingly  calling  to  norse,  he  left  his  throne,  and  mount- 
ing his  jennet,  accompanied  by  his  train,  he  again  entered 
the  lists.  The  Prince  paused  a  moment  beneath  the 
gallery  of  the  Lady  Alicia,  to  whom  he  paid  his  compli- 
ments, observing,  at  the  same  time,  to  those  around  him: 
"  By  my  halidome,  sirs  !  if  the  Knight's  feats  in  arms 
have  shown  that  he  hath  limbs  and  sinews,  his  choice 
hath  no  less  proved  that  his  eyes  are  none  of  the 
clearest.'' 

It  was  on  this  occasion,  as  during  his  whole  life,  John's 
misfortune  not  perfectly  to  understand  the  characters  of 
those  whom  he  wished  to  conciliate.  Waldemar  Fitzurse 
was  rather  offended  than  pleased  at  the  Prince  stating 
thus   broadly  an   opinion   that  his    daughter   had  been 

.slighted,  r   j}yr*v 

"  I  know  no  right  of  chivalry,"  he  said,  "  more  precious 
or  inalienable  than  that  of  each  free  knight  to  choose  his 
lady-love  by  his  own  judgment.  My  daughter  courts  dis- 
tinction from  no  one ;  and  in  her  own  character,  and  in 
her  own  sphere,  will  never  fail  to  receive  the  full  propor- 
tion of  that  which  is  her  due." 

Prince  John  replied  not ;  but,  spurring  his  horse,  as  if 
to  give  vent  to  his  vexation,  he  made  the  animal  bound 
forward  to  the  gallery  where  Rowena  was  seated,  with 
the  crown  still  at  her  feet. 

"  Assume,"  he  said,  "  fair  lady,  the  mark  of  your  sover- 
eignty, to  which  none  vows  homage  more  sincerely  than 
ourself,  John  of  Anjou ;  and  if  it  please  you  to-day,  with 


100  IVANHOE. 

your  noble  sire  and  friends,  to  grace  our  banquet  in  the 
Castle  of  Ashby,  we  shall  learn  to  know  the  empress  to 
whose  service  we  devote  to-morrow." 

Rowena  remained  silent,  and  Cedric  answered  for  her 
in  his  native  Saxon. 

"  The  Lady  Rowena,"  he  said,  "  possesses  not  the  lan- 
guage in  which  to  reply  to  your  courtesy,  or  to  sustain 
her  part  in  your  festival.  I  also,  and  the  noble  Athel- 
stane  of  Coningsburgh,  speak  only  the  language,  and 
practise  only  the  manners  of  our  fathers.  We  therefore 
decline  with  thanks  your  Highness's  courteous  invitation 
to  the  banquet.  To-morrow,  the  Lady  Rowena  will  take 
upon  her  the  state  to  which  she  has  been  called  by  the 
free  election  of  the  victor  Knight,  confirmed  by  the 
acclamations  of  the  people." 

So  saying,  he  lifted  the  coronet  and  placed  it  upon 
Rowena's  head,  in  token  of  her  acceptance  of  the  tempo- 
rary authority  assigned  to  her. 

"What  says  he?"  said  Prince  John,  affecting  not  to 
understand  the  Saxon  language,  in  which,  however,  he 
was  well  skilled.  The  purport  of  Cedric's  speech  was 
repeated  to  him  in  French.  "  It  is  well,"  he  said ;  "  to- 
morrow we  will  ourself  conduct  this  mute  sovereign  to 
her  seat  of  dignity.  —  You,  at  least,  Sir  Knight,"  he 
added,  turning  to  the  victor,  who  had  remained  near  the 
gallery,  "  will  this  day  share  our  banquet  ?  " 

The  Knight,  speaking  for  the  first  time,  in  a  low  and 
hurried  voice,  excused  himself  by  pleading  fatigue,  and 
the  necessity  of  preparing  for  to-morrow's  encounter. 

"  It  is  well,"  said  Prince  John,  haughtily  ;  "  although 
unused  to  such  refusals,  we  will  endeavour  to  digest  our 
banquet  as  we  may,  though  ungraced  by  the  most  suc- 
cessful in  arms,  and  his  elected  Queen  of  Beauty." 

So  saying,  he  prepared  to  leave  the  lists  with  his  glit- 
tering train,  and  his  turning  his  steed  for  that  purpose 
was  the  signal  for  the  breaking  up  and  dispersion  of  the 
spectators. 

Yet,  with  the  vindictive  memory  proper  to  offended 
pride,  especially  when  combined  with  conscious  want  of 
desert,  John  had  hardly  proceeded  three  paces  ere  again, 


IVANHOE.  101 

turning  around,  he  fixed  an  eye  of  stern  resentment  upon 
the  yeoman  who  had  displeased  him  in  the  Ocuvy  part  01 
the  day,  and  issued  his  commands  co'tbe  •i,en<-ab-arms  who 
stood  near :  "  On  your  life,  suffer  not  that  fellow  to  escape." 

The  yeoman  stood  the  angry  glance  of  the  Prince  with 
the  same  unvaried  steadiness  which  had  marked  his 
former  deportment,  saying,  with  a  smile :  "  I  have  no 
intention  to  leave  Ashby  until  the  day  after  to-morrow. 
I  must  see  how  Staffordshire  and  Leicestershire  can  draw 
their  bows  —  the  forests  of  ISTeedwood  and  Charnwood 
must  rear  good  archers." 

"  I,"  said  Prince  John  to  his  attendants,  but  not  in  di- 
rect reply  —  "I  will  see  how  he  can  draw  his  own  ;  and 
/0£p_fi-betide  him  unless  l^is  skill  should  prove  some  apology 
'for  Ms  insolence ! »   L^-^ 

"  It  is  full  time,"  said  De  Bracy, si  that  the  outrecuklance  ffi 
of  these  peasants  should  be  restrained  by  some  striking 
example." 

Waldemar  Fitzurse,  who  probably  thought  his  patron 
was  not  taking  the  readiest  road  to  popularity,  shrugged 
up  his  shoulders  and  was  silent.  Prince  John  resumed 
his  retreat  from  the  lists,  and  the  dispersion  of  the  multi- 
tude became  general. 

In  various  routes,  according  to  the  different  quarters 
from  which  they  came,  and  in  groups  of  various  numbers, 
the  spectators  were  seen  retiring  over  the  plain.  By  far 
the  most  numerous  part  streamed  towards  the  town  of 
Ashby,  where  many  of  the  distinguished  persons  were 
lodged  in  the  castle,  and  where  others  found  accommoda- 
tion in  the  town  itself.  Among  these  were  most  of  the 
knights  who  had  already  appeared  in  the  tournament,  or 
who  proposed  to  fight  there  the  ensuing  day,  and  who,  as 
they  rode  slowly  along,  talking  over  the  events  of  the 
day,  were  greeted  with  loud  shouts  by  the  populace.  The 
same  acclamations  were  bestowed  upon  Prince  John,  al- 
though he  was  indebted  for  them  rather  to  the  splendour 
of  his  appearance  and  train  than  to  the  popularity  of  his 
character. 

A  more  sincere  and  more  general,  as  well  as  a  better- 
merited  acclamation,  attended  the  victor  of  the  day,  un- 


7*-' 


102  IVANHOE. 

til,  anxious  to  withdraw  himself  from  popular  notice,  he 
accepted  the  accommodation  of  one  of  those  pavilions 
pitched  at  the  extremities  of  the  lists,  the  use  of  which 
was  courteously  tendered  him  by  the  marshals  of  the 
field.  On  his  retiring  to  his  tent,  many  who  had  lingered 
in  the  lists,  to  look  upon  and  form  conjectures  concerning 
him,  also  dispersed. 

The  signs  and  sounds  of  a  tumultuous  concourse  of 
men  lately  crowded  together  in  one  place,  and  agitated 
by  the  same  passing  events,  were  now  exchanged  for  the 
distant  hum  of  voices  of  different  groups  retreating  in  all 
directions,  and  these  speedily  died  away  in  silence.  No 
other  sounds  were  heard  save  the  voices  of  the  menials  , 
who  stripped  the  galleries  of  their  cushions  and  tapestry 
in  order  to  put  them  in  safety  for  the  night,  and  wrangled 
among  themselves  for  the  half-used  bottles  of  wine  and 
relics  of  the  refreshment  which  had  been  served  round 
to  the  spectators. 

Beyond  the  precincts  of  the  lists  more  than  one  forge 
was  erected;  and  these  now  began  to  glimmer  through 
the  twilight,  announcing  the  toil  of  the  armourers,  which 
was  to  continue  through  the  whole  night,  in  order  to  re- 
pair or  alter  the  suits  of  armour  to  be  used  again  on  the 
morrow. 

A  strong  guard  of  men-at-arms,  renewed  at  intervals, 
from  two  hours  to  two  hours,  surrounded  the  lists,  and 
kept  watch  during  the  night. 


CHAPTER   X. 

Thus,  like  the  sad  presaging  raven,  that  tolls 
The  sick  man's  passport  in  her  hollow  beak, 
And  in  the  shadow  of  the  silent  night 
Doth  shake  coiifcagion  from  her  sable  wings  ; 
Vex'd  and  tormented",  runs  poor  Barrabas, 
With  fatal  curses  towards  these  Christians. 

Jew  of  Malta. 


<t* 


au 


The  Disinherited  Knight  had  no  sooner  reached  his 
pavilion  than  squires  and  pages  in  abundance  tendered 


IVANHOE.  103 

their  services  to  disarm  him,  to  bring  fresh  attire,  and  to 
offer  him  the  refreshment  of  the  bath.  Their  zeal  on 
this  occasion  was  perhaps  sharpened  by  curiosity,  since 
every  one  desired  to  know  who  the  knight  was  that  had 
gained  so  many  laurels,  yet  had  refused,  even  at  the  com- 
mand of  Prince  John,  to  lift  his  visor  or  to  name  his 
name.  But  their  officious  inquisitiveness  was  not  grati- 
fied. The  Disinherited  Knight  refused  all  other  assist- 
ance save  that  of  his  own  squire,  or  rather  yeoman  —  a 
clownish-looking  man,  who,  wrapt  in  a  cloak  of  dark- 
coloured  felt,  and  having  his  head  and  face  half-buried 
in  a  Norman  bonnet  made  of  black  fur,  seemed  to  affect 
the  mcognito  as  much  as  his  master.  All  others  being 
excluded  from  the  tent,  this  attendant  relieved  his  mas- 
ter from  the  more  burdensome  parts  of  his  armour,  and 
placed  food  and  wine  before  him,  which  the  exertions  of 
the  day  rendered  very  acceptable. 

The  Knight  had  scarcely  finished  a  hasty  meal  ere  his 
menial  announced  to  him  that  five  men,  each  leading  a 
barbed  steed,  desired  to  speak  with  him.  The  Disin- 
herited Knight  had  exchanged  his  armour  for  the  long 
robe  usually  worn  by  those  of  his  condition,  which,  being 
furnished  with  a  hood,  concealed  the  features,  when  such 
was  the  pleasure  of  the  wearer,  almost  as  completely  as 
the  visor  of  the  helmet  itself;  but  the  twilight,  which 
was  now  fast  darkening,  would  of  itself  have  rendered  a 
disguise  unnecessary,  unless  to  persons  to  whom  the  face 
of  an  individual  chanced  to  be  particularly  well  known. 

The  Disinherited  Knight,  therefore,  stept  boldly  forth 
to  the  front  of  his  tent,  and  found  in  attendance  the 
squires  of  the  challengers,  whom  he  easily  knew  by  their 
russet  and  black  dresses,  each  of  whom  led  his  master's 
charger,  loaded  with  the  armour  in  which  he  had  that 
day  fought. 

"  According  to  the  laws  of  chivalry,"  said  the  foremost 
of  these  men,  "  I,  Baldwin  de  Oyley,  squire  to  the  re- 
doubted Knight  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  make  offer  to 
you,  styling  yourself  for  the  present  the  Disinherited 
Knight,  of  the  horse  and  armour  used  by  the  said  Brian 
de  Bois-Guilbert  in  this  day's  passage  of  arms,  leaving  it 


104  1VANHOE. 

with  your  nobleness  to  retain  or  to  ransom  the  same, 
according  to  your  pleasure ;  for  such  is  the  law  of  arms." 

The  other  squires  repeated  nearly  the  same  formula, 
and  then  stood  to  await  the  decision  of  the  Disinherited 
Knight. 

"To  you  four,  sirs,"  replied  the  Knight,  addressing 
those  who  had  last  spoken,  "  and  to  your  honourable  and 
valiant  masters,  I  have  one  common  reply.  Commend 
me  to  the  noble  knights,  your  masters,  and  say,  I  should 
do  ill  to  deprive  them  of  steeds  and  arms  which  can  never 
be  used  by  braver  cavaliers.  —  I  would  I  could  here  end 
my  message  to  these  gallant  knights ;  but  being,  as  I 
term  myself,  in  truth  and  earnest  the  Disinherited,  I 
must  be  thus  far  bound  to  your  masters,  that  they  will, 
of  their  courtesy,  be  pleased  to  ransom  their  steeds  and 
armour,  since  that  which  I  wear  I  can  hardly  term  mine 
own." 

"  We  stand  commissioned,  each  of  us,"  answered  the 
squire  of  Reginald  Front-de-Bceuf,  "to  offer  a  hundred 
zecchins  in  ransom  of  these  horses  and  suits  of  armour." 

"  It  is  sufficient,"  said  the  Disinherited  Knight.  "  Half 
the  sum  my  present  necessities  compel  me  to  accept ;  of 
the  remaining  half,  distribute  one  moiety  among  your- 
selves, sir  squires,  and  divide  the  other  half  betwixt  the 
heralds  and  the  pursuivants,  and  minstrels  and  attend- 
ants." 

The  squires,  with  cap  in  hand,  and  low  reverences,  ex- 
pressed their  deep  sense  of  a  courtesy  and  generosity  not 
often  practised,  at  least  upon  a  scale  so  extensive.  The 
Disinherited  Knight  then  addressed  his  discourse  to 
Baldwin,  the  squire  of  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert.  "  From 
your  master,"  said  he,  "  I  will  accept  neither  arms,  nor 
ransom.  Say  to  him  in  my  name,  that  our  strife  is  not 
ended  —  no,  not  till  we  have  fought  as  well  with  swords 
as  with  lances,  as  well  on  foot  as  on  horseback.  To  this 
mortal  quarrel  he  has  himself  defied  me,  and  I  shall  not 
forget  the  challenge.  —  Meantime,  let  him  be  assured  that 
I  hold  him  not  as  one  of  his  companions,  with  whom  I  can 
with  pleasure  exchange  courtesies;  but  rather  as  one  with 
whom  I  stand  upon  terms  of  mortal  defiance." 


TVANEOE.  105 

"My  master,"  answered  Baldwin,  "knows  how  to  re- 
quite scorn  with  scorn,  and  blows  with  blows,  as  well  as 
courtesy  with  courtesy.  Since  you  disdain  to  accept  from 
him  any  share  of  the  ransom  at  which  you  have  rated  the 
arms  of  the  other  knights,  I  must  leave  his  armour  and 
his  horse  here,  being  well  assured  that  he  will  never  deign 
to  mount  the  one  nor  wear  the  other." 

"  You  have  spoken  well,  good  squire,"  said  the  Disin- 
herited Knight,  "well  and  boldly,  as  it  beseemeth  him 
to  speak  who  answers  for  an  absent  master.  Leave  not, 
however,  the  horse  and  armour  here.  Restore  them-  to 
thy  master ;  or,  if  he  scorns  to  accept  them,  retain  them, 
good  friend,  for  thine  own  use.  So  far  as  they  are  mine, 
I  bestow  them  upon  you  freely." 

Baldwin  made  a  deep  obeisance,  and  retired  with  his 
companions ;  and  the  Disinherited  Knight  entered  the 
pavilion. 

"  Thus  far,  Gurth,"  said  he,  addressing  his '  attendant, 
"  the  reputation  of  English  chivalry  hath  not  suffered  in 
my  hands." 

"  And  I,"  said  Gurth,  "  for  a  Saxon  swineherd,  have  not 
ill  played  the  personage  of  a  Norman  squire-at-arms." 

"  Yea,  but,"  answered  the  Disinherited  Knight,  "  thou 
hast  ever  kept  me  in  anxiety  lest  thy  clownish  bearing 
should  discover  thee." 

"Tush!"  said  Gurth,  "I  fear  discovery  from  none, 
saving  my  playfellow,  Wamba  the  Jester,  of  whom  I 
could  never  discover  whether  he  were  most  knave  or 
fool.  Yet  I  could  scarce  choose  but  laugh,  when  my 
old  master  passed  so  near  to  me,  dreaming  all  the  while 
that  Gurth  was  keeping  his  porkers  many  a  mile  off, 
in  the  thickets  and  swamps  of  Rotherwood.  If  I  am 
discovered " 

"  Enough,"  said  the  Disinherited  Knight,  "  thou  know- 
est  my  promise." 

"  Nay,  for  that  matter,"  said  Gurth,  "  I  will  never  fail 
my  friend  for  fear  of  my  skin-cutting.  I  have  a  tough 
hide,  that  will  bear  knife  or  scourge  as  well  as  any  boar's 
hide  in  my  herd." 

"  Trust  me,  I  will  requite  the  risk  you  run  for  my  love, 


106  IVAN  HOE. 

Gurth,"  said  the  Knight.  "Meanwhile,  I  pray  you  to 
accept  these  ten  pieces  of  gold." 

"  I  am  richer,"  said  Gurth,  putting  them  into  his  pouch, 
"than  ever  was  swineherd  or  bondsman." 

"  Take  this  bag  of  gold  to  Ashby,"  continued  his  mas- 
ter, "  and  find  out  Isaac  the  Jew  of  York,  and  let  him 
pay  himself  for  the  horse  and  arms  with  which  his  credit 
supplied  me." 

"Nay,  by  St.  Dunstan,"  replied  Gurth,  "that  I  will  not 
do." 

"  How,  knave,"  replied  his  master,  "  wilt  thou  not  obey 
my  commands  ?  " 

"So  they  be  honest,  reasonable,  and  Christian  com- 
mands," replied  Gurth ;  "  but  this  is  none  of  these.  To 
suffer  the  Jew  to  pay  himself  would  be  dishonest,  for  it 
would  be  cheating  my  master ;  and  unreasonable,  for  it 
were  the  part  of  a  fool ;  and  unchristian,  since  it  would 
be  plundering  a  believer  to  enrich  an  infidel." 

"  See  him  contented,  however,  thou  stubborn  varlet," 
said  the  Disinherited  Knight. 

"  I  will  do  so,"  said  Gurth,  taking  the  bag  under  his 
cloak  and  leaving  the  apartment ;  "  and  it  will  go  hard," 
he  muttered,  "but  I  content  him  with  one-half  of  his  own 
asking."  So  saying,  he  departed,  axid  left  the  Disinher- 
ited Knight  to  his  own  perplexed  ruminations,  which, 
upon  more  accounts  than  it  is  now  possible  to  communi- 
cate to  the .  reader,  were  of  a  nature  peculiarly  agitating 
and  painful. 

We  must  now  change  the  scene  to  the  village  of  Ashby, 
or  rather  to  a  country  house  in  its  vicinity  belonging  to  a 
wealthy  Israelite,  with  whom  Isaac,  his  daughter,  and  reti- 
nue had  taken  up  their  quarters;  the  Jews,  it  is  well 
known,  being  as  liberal  in  exercising  the  duties  of  hospi- 
tality and  charity  among  their  own  people  as  they  were 
alleged  to  be  reluctant  and  churlish  in  extending  them  to 
those  whom  they  termed  Gentiles,  and  whose  treatment 
of  them  certainly  merited  little  hospitality  at  their  hand. 

In  an  apartment,  small  indeed,  but  richly  furnished 
with  decorations  of  an  Oriental  taste,  Rebecca  was  seated 


IVANHOE.  107 

on  a  heap  of  embroidered  cushions,  which,  piled  along  a 
low  platform  that  surrounded  the  chamber,  served,  like 
the  estrada  of  the  Spaniards,  instead  of  chairs  and  stools. 
She  was  watching  the  motions  of  her  father  with  a  look 
of  anxious  and  filial  affection,  while  he  paced  the  apart- 
ment with  a  dejected  mien  and  disordered  step,  sometimes 
clasping  his  hands  together,  sometimes  casting  his  eyes 
to  the  roof  of  the  apartment,  as  one  who  laboured  under 
great  mental  tribulation.  "  0  Jacob !  V  he  exclaimed  — 
r  0  all  ye  twelve  Holy  Fathers  of  our  tribe !  what  a  los- 
ing venture  is  this  for  one  who  hath  duly  kept  every  jot 
and  tittle  of  the  law  of  Moses  !  —  Fifty  zecchins  wrenched 
from  me  at  one  clutch,  and  by  the  talons  of  a  tyrant ! " 

"  Hut,  father,''  said  Rebecca^  '(you  seemed  to  give  the 
gold  to  Prince  John  willingly.^ 

<*  Willingly!  the  blotch  of  Egypt  upon  him!  — Will- 
ingly, saidst  thou  ?  —  Ay,  as  willingly  as  when,  in  the 
Gulf  of  Lyons,  I  flung  over  my  merchandise  to  lighten 
the  ship,  while  she  laboured  in  the  tempest  —  robed  the 
seething  billows  in  my  choice  silks  —  perfumed  their 
^briny  foam  with  myrrh  and  aloes  —  enriched  their  cav- 
erns with  gold  and  silver  work !  And  was  not  that  an 
hour  of  unutterable  misery,  though  my  hands  made  the 
sacrifice  ?J 

'r  But  \$  was  a  sacrifice  which  Heaven  exacted  to  save 
our  lives,j'  answered  Rebecca,  ^  and  the  God  of  our  fathers 
has  since  blessed  your  store  and  your  gettings.* 

(f  Ay,'?  answered  Isaac,  ('  but  if  the  tyrant  lays  hold  on 
them  as  he  did  to-day,  and  compels  me  to  smile  while  he 
is  robbing  me  ?  —  0  daughter,  disinherited  and  wandering 
as  we  are,  the  worst  evil  which  befalls  our  race  is,  that 
when  we  are  wronged  and  plundered  all  the  world  laughs 
around,  and  we  are  compelled  to  suppress  our  sense  of 
injury,  and  to  smile  tamely  when  we  would  revenge 
bravely.j 

N^Think  not  thus  of  it,  my  father,']  said  Rebecca ;  \P  we 
also  have  advantages.  These  Gentiles,  cruel  and  oppres- 
sive as  they  are,  are  in  some  sort  dependent  on  the  dis- 
persed children  of  Zion,  whom  they  despise  and  persecute. 
Without  the  aid  of  our  wealth  they  could  neither  furnish 


108  IVANHOE. 

forth  their  hosts  in  war  nor  their  triumphs  in  peace  ;  and 
the  gold  which  we  lend  them  returns  with  increase  to  our 
coffers.  We  are  like  the  herb  which  flourisheth  most 
when  it  is  most  trampled  on.  Even  this  day's  pageant 
had  not  proceeded  without  the  consent  of  the  despised 
Jew,  who  furnished  the  means. J 

\e  Daughter,"}  said  Isaac,  r  thou  hast  harped  upon  an- 
other string  of  sorrow.  The  goodly  steed  and  the  rich 
armour,  equal  to  the  full  profit  of  my  adventure  with  our 
Kirjath  Jairam  of  Leicester  —  there  is  a  dead  loss  too  — 
ay,  a  loss  which  swallows  up  the  gains  of  a  week  —  ay, 
of  the  space  between  two  Sabaoths  —  and  yet.it  may  end 
better  than  I  now  think,  for  'tis  a  good  youth.'' 

r  Assuredly/p  said  Eebecca,  (^  you  shall  notTepent  you^^lN 
of   requiting   the   good   deed   received   of   the    stranger 
knight.  '^  \ 

£1  trust  so,  daughter,'^  said  Isaac,  {'  and  I  trust  too  in 
the' rebuilding  of  Zion/but  as  well  do  I  hope  with  my 
own  bodily  eyes  to  see  the  walls  and  battlements  of  the 
new  Temple,  as  to  see  a  Christian,  yea,  the  very  best  of 
Christians,  repay  a  debt  to  a  Jew,  unless  under  the  awe 
of  the  judge  and  jailor."; 

So  saying,  he  resumea  his  discontented  walk  through 
the  apartment ;  and  Rebecca,  perceiving  that  her  attempts 
at  consolation  only  served  to  awaken  new  subjects  of 
complaint,  wisely  desisted  from  her  unavailing  efforts  — 
a  prudential  line  of  conduct,  and  we  recommend  to  all 
who  set  up  for  comforters  and  advisers  to  follow  it  in  the 
like  circumstances. 

The  evening  was  now  becoming  dark,  when  a  Jewish 
servant  entered  the  apartment  and  placed  upon  the  table 
two  silver  lamps,  fed  with  perfumed  oil ;  the  richest 
wines  and  the  most  delicate  refreshments  were  at  the 
same  time  displayed  by  another  Israelitish  domestic  on  a 
small  ebony  table,  inlaid  with  silver ;  for,  in  the  interior 
ii?of  their  houses,  the  Jews  refused  themselves  no  expen-  , 
sive  indulgences.  At  the  same  time  the  servant  informed 
Isaac  that  a  Nazarene  (so  they  termed  Christians  while 
conversing  among  themselves)  desired  to  speak  with  him. 
He  that  would  live  by  traffic  must  hold  himself  at  the 


IVANHOE.  109 

disposal  of  every  one  claiming  business  with  him.  Isaac 
at  once  replaced  on  the  table  the  untasted  glass  of  Greek 
wine  which  he  had  'just  raised  to  his  lips,  and  saying 
hastily  to  his  daughter,  \Rebecca,  vej^ .thy self, "J com- 
manded the  stranger  to  be  admitted.  fg[: 

Just  as  Rebecca  had  dropped  over  her  fine  features  a 
screen  of  silver_gauze  which  reached  to  her  feet,  the  door 
opened,  and  Gurth  entered,  wrapt  in  the  ample  folds  of 
his  Norman  mantle.  His  appearance  was  rather  .suspi-y 
cious  than  prepossessing,  especially  as,  instead  of  doffing 
His  bonnet,  he  pulled  it  still  deeper  over  his  rugged  brow. 

(\  Art  thou  Isaac  the  Jew  of  York  ?J'  said  Gurth,  in 
Saxon.      x 

fl  am,"  replied  Isaac,  in  the  same  language,  for  his 
traffic  had  rendered  every  tongue  spoken  in  Britain 
familiar  to  him,  ('  and  who  art  thou  ?/" 

/^That  is  not  toHhe  purpose?)  answ'ered  Gurth. 

VAs  much  as  my  name  is  to  thee,^  replied  Isaac  ;  £for 
without  knowing  thine,  how  can  I  hold  intercourse  with 
theeh' 

^l£asily,J  answered  Gurth;  '(I,  being  to  pay  money, 
must  know  that  I  deliver  it  to  the  right  person ;  thou, 
who  art  to  receive  it,  wilt  not,  I  think,  care  very  greatly 
by  whose  hands  it  is  delivered.  J 

"  "  Oh,')  said  the  Jew,  {'  you  are  come  to  pay  monies  ? 
Holy  Father  Abraham  !  that  altereth  our  relation  to  each 
other.     And  from  whom  dost  thou  bring  it  ?T 

*'  From  the  Disinherited  Knight, "Jsaid  Gurth,  f<  victor 
in  this  day's  tournament.  It  is  the  price  of  the  armour 
supplied  to  him  by  Kir  j  at  h  Jairam  of  Leicester,  on  thy 
recommendation.  The  steed  is  restored  to  thy  stable.  I 
desire  to  know  the  amount  of  the  sum  which  I  am  to  pay 
for  the  armour. J 

4XI  said  he  was  a  good  youth ! '"  exclaimed  Isaac,  with 
joyful  exultation.  \A  cup  of  wine  will  do  thee  no  harm," 
he  added,  filling  and  handing  to  the  swineherd  a  richer 
draught  than  Gurth  had  ever  before  tasted.  (<  And  how 
much  money,"  continued  Isaac,  <<hast  thou  brought  with 
thee  ?  j  J 

"  Holy  Virgin !  'J  said   Gurth,  setting   down   the   cup, 


fik 


110  I  VAN  HOE. 

"  what  nectar  these  unbelieving  dogs  drink,  while  true 
Christians  are  fain  to  miaff  ale  as  muddy  and  thick  as 
the  draff  we  give  to  hogs  : —  What  money  have  I  brought 
with  me  ?  *?  continued  the  Saxon,  when  he  had  finished 
this  uncivil  ejaculation,  fi  even  but  a  small  sum ;  some- 
thing in  hand  the  whilst.  What,  Isaac !  thou  must 
bear  a  conscience,  though  it  be  a  Jewish  one.'' 

t "  Nay,  but,"  said  Isaac,  '■'  thy  master  has  won  goodly 
steeds  and  rich  armours  with  the  strength  of  his  lance 
and  of  his  right  hand  —  but  'tis  a  good  youth  —  the  Jew 
will  take  these  in  present  payment,  and  render  him  back 
the  surplus.'^ 

"  My  master  has  disposed  of  them  already,"  said  Gurth. 

"  Ah  !  that  was  wrong,''  said  the  Jew — -"that  was  the 
part  of  a  fool.  No  Christian  here  could  buy  so  many 
horses  and  armour  —  no  Jew  except  myself  would  give 
him  half  the  values.  But  thou  hast  a  hundred  zecchins 
with  thee  in  that  bag^'  said  Isaac,  prying  under  Gurth's 
cloak,' " it  is  a  heavy  one." 

"  I  have  heads  for  cross-bow  bolts  in  it,"  said  Gurth, 
readily. 

"  Well,  then,'*  said  Isaac,  panting  and  hesitating  be- 
tween habitual  love  of  gain  and  a  new-born  desire  to  be 
liberal  in  the  present  instance,  7  if  I  should  say  that  I 
would  take  eighty  zecchins  for  the  good  steed  and  the 
rich  armour,,  which  leaves  me  not  a  guilder's  profit,  have 
you  money  to  pay  me  ?Y? 

"Barely,"  said  Gurth,  though  the  sum  demanded  was 
more  reasonable  than  he  expected,  f  and  it  will  leave  my 
master  nigh  penniless.  Nevertheless,  if  such  be  your 
least  offer,  I  must  be  content.'^ 

i"  Fill  thyself  another  goblet'  of  wine,"  said  the  Jew. 
"  Ah !  eighty  zecchins  is  too  little.  It  leaveth  no  profit 
for  the  usages  of  the  monies  ;  and,  besides,  the  good  horse 
may  have  suffered  wrong  in  this  day's  encounter.  Oh, 
it  was  a  hard  and  a  dangerous  meeting !  man  and  steed 
rushing  on  each  other  like  wild  bulls  of  Bashan !  the 
horse  cannot  but  have  had  wrong.}' 

•'And  I  say,*'  replied  Gurth, ("he  is  sound,  wind  and 
limb  j  and  you  may  see  him  now  in  your  stable.     And  I 


IVAN  HOE.  Ill 

say,  over  and  above,  that  seventy  zecchins  is  enough  for 
the  armour,  and  I  hope  a  Christian's  word  is  as  good  as  a 
Jew's.  If  you  will  not  take  seventy,  I  will  carry  this 
bag"  (and  he  shook  it  till  the  contents  jingled)  f'back  to 
my  master.')  \ 

rNay,  nay  J/'  said  Isaac;  i"lay  down  the  talents  —  the 
shekels  —  the  eighty  zecchins,  and  thou  shalt  see  I  will 
consider  thee  liberally."  \^K<^ 

Gurth  at  length  complied ;  and  telling  out  eighty 
zecchins  upon  the  table,  the  Jew  delivered  out  to  him  an 
acquittance  for  the  horse  and  suit  of  armour.  The  Jew's 
hand  trembled  for  joy  as  he  wrapped  up  the  first  seventy 
pieces  of  gold.  The  last  ten  he  told  over  with  much 
deliberation,  pausing,  and  saying  something  as  he  took 
each  piece  from  the  table  and  dropt  it  into  his  purse.  It 
seemed  as  if  his  avarice  were  struggling  with  his  better 
nature,  and  compelling  him  to  pouch  zecchin  after  zee- 
chin,  while  his  generosity  urged  him  to  restore  some 
part  at  least  to  his  benefactor,  or  as  a  donation  to  his 
agent.     His  whole  speech  ran  nearly  thus : 

"Seventy-one,  seventy-two  —  thy  master  is  a  good 
youth  —  seventy-three  —  an  excellent  youth  —  seventy- 
four —  that  piece  hath  been  clipt  within  the  ring  — 
seventy -five  —  and  that  looketh  light  of  weight  —  seventy- 
six —  when  thy  master  wants  money,  let  him  come  to 
Isaac  of  York  —  seventy-seven  —  that  is,  with  reasonable 
security."}  Here  he  made  a  considerable  pause,  and 
Gurth  hacl  good  hope  that  the  last  three  pieces  might 
escape  the  fate  of  their  comrades ;  but  the  enumeration 
proceeded  ;("  Seventy  -eight  —  thou  art  a  good  fellow — t 
seventy-nine  —  and  deservest  something  for  thyself y 

Here  the  Jew  paused  again,  and  looked  at  the  last 
zecchin,  intending,  doubtless,  to  bestow  it  upon  Gurth. 
He  weighed  it  upon  the  tip  of  his  finger,  and  made  it 
ring  by  dropping  it  upon  the  table.  Had  it  rung  too  flat, 
or  had  it  felt  a  hair's  breadth  too  light,  generosity  had 
carried  the  day ;  but,  unhappily  for  Gurth,  the  chime 
was  full  and  true,  the  zecchin  plump,  newly  coined,  and 
a  grain  above  weight.  Isaac  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart 
to  part  with  it,  so  dropt  it  into  his  purse  as  if  in  absence 


112  IVANHOE. 

( 

of  mind,  with  the  words,  Y'  Eighty  completes  the  tale,  and 
I  trnst  thy  master  will  reward  thee  handsomely.  ,  Surely,") 
he  added,  looking  earnestly  at  the  bag,  "  thou  hast  more 
coins  in  that  pouch  ?  j 

Gurth  grinned,  which  was  his  nearest  approach  to  a 
laugh,  as  he  replied,  4  About  the  same  quantity  which  thou 
hast  just  told  over  so  carefully."  He  then  folded  the 
quittance,  and  put  it  under  his  cap,  adding,  "Peril  of  thy 
beard,  Jew,  see  that  this  be  full  and  ample  !  r  He  filled 
himself,  unbidden,  a  third  goblet  of  wine,  and  left  the 
apartment  without  ceremony. 

"  Rebecca,"  said  the  Jew,  "  that  Ishmaelite  hath  gone 
somewhat  beyond  me.  Nevertheless,  his  master  is  a  good 
youth  —  ay,  and  I  am  well  pleased  that  he  hath  gained 
shekels  of  gold  and  shekels  of  silver,  even  by  the  speed 
of  his  horse  and  by  the  strength  of  his  lance,  which,  like 
that  of  G-oliath  the  Philistine,  might  vie  with  a  weaver's 
beam." 

As  he  turned  to  receive  Rebecca's  answer,  he  observed 
that  during  his  chaffering  with  Gurth  she  had  left  the 
apartment  unperceived.' '    j^^ipJ^x\ 

In  the  meanwhile,  Gurth  had  aescended  the  stair,  and, 
having  reached  the  dark  ante-chamber  or  hall,  was  puz- 
zling to  discover  the  entrance,  when  a  figure  in  white, 
shown  by  a  small  silver  lamp  whiciushe  held  in  her  hand, 
beckoned  him  into  a  side  apartment.  Gurth  had  some 
reluctance  to  obey  the  summons.  Rough  and  hnpeiiious^'U^ 
as  a  wild  boar  where  only  earthly  force  was  to  be  appre- 
hended, he  had  all  the  characteristic  terrors  of  a  Saxon 
respecting  jauns,  forest  fiends,  white  women,  and  the 
whole  of  thesuperstitions  which  his  ancestors  had  brought 
with  them  from  the  wilds  of  Germany.  He  remembered, 
moreover,  that  he  was  in  the  house  of  a  Jew,  a  people 
who,  besides  the  other  unamiable  qualities  which  popular 
report  ascribed  to  them,  were  supposed  to  be  profound 
necromancers  and  cabalists.  Nevertheless,  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  he  obeyed  the  beckoning  summons  of  the 
apparition,  and  followed  her  into  the  apartment  which 
she  indicated,  where  he  found,  to  his  joyful  surprise,  that 
his  fair  guide  was  the  beautiful  Jewess  whom  he  had 


IVAN  HOE.  113 

seen  at  the  tournament,  and  a  short  time  in  her  father's 
apartment. 

She  asked  him  the  particulars  of  his  transaction  with 
Isaac,  which  he  detailed  accurately. 

"  My  father  did  but  jest  with  thee,  good  fellow,/  said 
Rebecca ;  "  he  owes  thy  master  deeper  kindness  than  these 
arms  and  steed  could  pay,  were  their  value  [tenfold.  What 
sum  didst  thou  pay  my  father  even  now?/ 

"  Eighty  zecchins^  said  Gurth,  surprised  at  the  question. 

"  In  this  purse,'/  said  Rebecca,  '{thou  wilt  find  a  hun- 
dred. Restore  to  thy  master  that  which  is  his  due,  and 
enrich  thyself  with  the  remainder.  Haste  —  begone  — 
stay  not  to  render  thanks !  and  beware  how  you  pass 
through  this  crowded  town,  where  thou  mayst  easily 
lose  both  thy  burden  and  thy  life. — Reuben  J'  she  added, 
clapping  her  hands  together,  f  light  forth  this  stranger, 
and  fail  not  to  draw  lock  and  bar  behind  him." 

Reuben,  a  dark-browed  and  black-bearded  Israelite, 
obeyed  her  summons,  with  a  torch  in  his  hand;  undid 
the  outward  door  of  the  house,  and  conducting  Gurth 
across  a  paved  court,  let  him  out  through  a  wicket  in  the 
entrance-gate,  which  he  closed  behind  him  with  such 
bolts  and  chains  as  would  well  have  become  that  of  a 
prison. 

<^By  St.  Dunstan,?  said  Gurth,  as  he  stumbled  up  the 
dark  avenue,  # this  is  no  Jewess,  but  an  angel  from 
heaven  !  Ten  zecchins  from  my  brave  young  master  — 
twenty  from  this  pearl  of  Zion  !  —  Oh,  happy  day !  —  Such 
another,  Gurth,  will  redeem  thy  bondage,  and  make  thee 
a  brother  as  free  of  thy  gu^ld  as  the  best.  And  then  do 
I  lay  down  my  swineherd's  horn  and  staff,  and  take  the. 
freeman's  sword  and  buckler,  and  follow  my  young  mas- 
ter to  the  death,  without  hiding  either  my  face  or  my 
name."  #£ 


114  IVANHOE. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


1st  Outlaw.     Stand,  sir,  and  throw  us  that  you  have  about  you  j>^/%, 
•        If  not,  we'll  make  you  sit,  and  rifle  you. 

Speed.     Sir,  we  are  undone  !  these  are  the  yillains 
That  all  the  travellers  do  fear  so  much. 

Vol.     My  friends 

1st  Out.     That's  not  so,  sir,  we  are  your  enemies. 

2d  Out.    Peace  !  we'll  hear  him. 

3d  Out.     Ay,  by  my  beard,  will  we  ; 
For  he's  a  proper  man. 

*  4  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 

The  nocturnal  adventures  of  Gurth  were  not  yet  con- 
cluded; indeed,  he  himself  became  partly  of  that  mind 
when,  after  passing  one  or  two  straggling  houses  which 
stood  in  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  he  found  himself  in 
a  deep  lane,  running  between  two  banks  overgrown  with 
hazel  and  holly,  while  here  and  there  a  dwarf  oak  hung 
its  arms  altogether  across  the  path.  The  lane  was,  more- 
over, much  rutted  and  broken  up  by  the  carriages  which 
had  recently  transported  articles  of  various  kinds  to  the 
tournament ;  and  it  was  dark,  for  the  banks  and  bushes 
intercepted  the  light  of  the  harvest  moon. 

From  the  village  were  heard  the  distant  sounds  of 
revelry,  mixed  occasionally  with  loud  laughter,  sometimes 
broken  by  screams,  and  sometimes  by  wild  strains  of  dis- 
tant music.  All  these  sounds,  intimating  the  disorderly 
state  of  the  town,  crowded  with  military -nobles  and  their 
dissolute  attendants,  gave  Gurth  some  uneasiness.  "  The 
Jewess  was  right,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  By  heaven  and 
St.  Dunstan,  I  would  I  were  safe  at  my  journey's  end  with 
all  this  treasure !  Here  are  such  numbers,  I  will  not 
say  of  arrant  thieves,  but  of  errant  knights  and  errant 
squires,  errant  monks  and  errant  minstrels,  errant  jug- 
glers and  errant  jesters,  that  a  man  with  a  single  merk 
would  be  in  danger,  much  more  a  poor  swineherd  with 
a  whole  bagful  of  zecchins.  Would  I  were  out  of  the 
shade  of  these  infernal  bushes,  that  I  might  at  least 
see  any  of  St.  Nicholas's  clerks  before  they  spring  on  my 
shoulders ! " 


IVANHOE.  115 

G-urth  accordingly  hastened  his  pace,  in  order  to  gain 
the  open  common  to  which  the  lane  led,  but  was  not  so 
fortunate  as  to  accomplish  his  object.  Just  as  he  at- 
tained the  upper  end  of  the  lane,  where  the  underwood 
was  thickest,  four  men  sprung  upon  him,  even  as  his 
fears  anticipated,  two  from  each  side  of  the  road,  and 
seized  him  so  fast  that  resistance,  if  at  first  practicable, 
would  have  been  now  too  late.  —  "  Surrender  your  charge," 
said  one  of  them  ;  "  we  are  the  deliverers  of  the  common- 
wealth, who  ease  every  man  of  his  burden." 

"  You  should  not  ease  me  of  mine  so  lightly,"  muttered 
Gurth,  whose  surly  honesty  could  not  'be  tamed  even  by 
the  pressure  of  immediate  violence,  "had  I  it  but  in  my 
power  to  give  three  strokes  in  its  defence." 

"We  shall  see  that  presently,"  said  the  robber;  and, 
speaking  to  his  companions,  he  added,  "  bring  along  the 
knave.  I  see  he  would  have  his  head  broken  as  well 
as  his  purse  cut,  and  so  be  let  blood  in  two  veins  at 
once."  v~v.ka.- 

Gurth  was  hurried  along  agreeably  to  this  mandate,  and 
having  been  dragged  somewhat  roughly  over  the  bank  on 
the  left-hand  side  of  the  lane,  found  himself  in  a  strag- 
gling thicket,  which  lay  betwixt  it  and  the  open  common. 
He  was  compelled  to  follow  his  rough  conductors  into  the 
very  depth  of  this  cover,  where  they  stopt  unexpectedly 
in  an  irregular  open  space,  free  in  a  great  measure  from 
trees,  and  on  which,  therefore,  the  beams  of  the  moon 
fell  without  much  interruption  from  boughs  and  leaves. 
Here  his  captors  were  joined  by  two  other  persons,  appar- 
ently belonging  to  the  gang.  They  had  short  swords  by 
their  sides,  and  quarter^staves  in  their  hands,  and  Gurth 
could  now  observe  that  all  six  wore  visors,  which  rendered 
their  occupation  a  matter  of  no  question,  even  had  their 
former  proceedings  left  it  in  doubt. 

"  What  money  hast  thou,  churl  ? "  said  one  of  the 
thieves. 

"Thirty  zecchins  of  my  own  property,"  answered 
Gurth,  doggedly. 

"  A  forfeit  —  a  forfeit,"  shouted  the  robbers  ;  "  a  Saxon 
aath  thirty  zecchins,  and  returns  sober  from  a  village! 


116  IVANHOE. 

An  undeniable  and  unredeemable  forfeit  of  all  lie  hath 
about  him."  ^,.         /r&JL 

"  I  hoarded  it  to  purchase  my  freedom,"  said  Gurth. 

"Thou  art  an  ass,"  replied  one  of  the  thieves;  "three 
quarts  of  double  ale  had  rendered  thee  as  free  as  thy 
master,  ay,  and  freer  too,  if  he  be  a  Saxon  like  thy- 
self." 

"  A  sad  truth,"  replied  Gurth ;  "  but  if  these  same 
thirty  zecchins  will  buy  my  freedom  from  you,  unloose 
my  hands  and  I  will  pay  them  to  you." 

"  Hold,"  said  one  who  seemed  to  exercise  some  author- 
ity over  the  others ;  "  this  bag  which  thou  bearest,  as  I 
can  feel  through  thy  cloak,  contains  more  coin  than  thou 
hast  told  us  of." 

"  It  is  the  good  knight  my  master's,"  answered  Gurth, 
"  of  which,  assuredly,  I  would  not  have  spoken  a  word, 
had  you  been  satisfied  with  working  your  will  upon  mine 
own  property." 

"  Thou  art  an  honest  fellow,"  replied  the  robber,  "  I 
warrant  thee ;  and  we  worship  not  St.  Nicholas  so  de- 
voutly but  what  thy  thirty  zecchins  may  yet  escape,  if 
thou  deal  uprightly  with  us.  Meantime,  render  up  thy 
trust  for  the  time."  So  saying,  he  took  from  Gurth's 
breast  the  large  leathern  pouch,  in  which  the  purse  given 
him  by  Rebecca  was  inclosed,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  the 
zecchins,  and  then  continued  his  interrogation  —  "Who 
is  thy  master  ?  " 

"  The  Disinherited  Knight,"  said  Gurth. 

"  Whose  good  lance,"  replied  the  robber,  "  won  a  prize 
in  to-day's  tourney  ?     What  is  his  name  and  lineage  ?  " 

"  It  is  his  pleasure,"  answered  Gurth,  "  that  they  be 
concealed ;  and  from  me,  assuredly,  you  will  learn  nought 
of  them." 

"  What  is  thine  own  name  and  lineage  ?  " 

"  To  tell  that,"  said  Gurth,  "  might  reveal  my  master's." 

"  Thou  art  a  saucy  groom,"  said  the  robber ;  "  but  of 
that  anon.  How  comes  thy  master  by  this  gold  ?  Is  it 
of  his  inheritance,  or  by  what  means  hath  it  accrued  to 
him  ?  "  i?0 

"  By  his  good  lance/'  answered  Gurth.     "  These  bags 


IVANHOE.  Ill 

contain  the  ransom  of  four  good  horses  and  four  good 
suits  of  armour." 

"  How  much  is  there  ?  "  demanded-  the  robber. 

"  Two  hundred  zecchins." 

"  Only  two  hundred  zecchins  !  "  said  the  bandit ;  "your 
master  hath  dealt  liberally  by  the  vanquished,  and  put 
them  to  a  cheap  ransom.     Name  those  who  paid  the  gold." 

Gurth  did  so. 

"The  armour  and  horse  of  the  Templar  Brian  de  Bois- 
Guilbert  —  at  what  ransom  were  they  held  ?  —  Thou  seest 
thou  canst  not  deceive  me." 

"My  master,"  replied  Gurth,  "will  take  nought  from 
the  Templar  save  his  life?s-blood.  They  are  on  terms  of 
mortal  defiance,  and  cannot  hold  courteous  intercourse 
together." 

"  Indeed ! "  repeated  the  robber,  and  paused  after  he 
had  said  the  word.  "  And  what  wert  thou  now  doing  at 
Ashby  with  such  a  charge  in  thy  custody  ?  " 

"I  went  thither  to  render  to  Isaac  the  Jew  of  York," 
replied  Gurth,  "  the  price  of  a  suit  of  armour  with  which 
he  fitted  my  master  for  this  tournament." 

"  And  how  much  didst  thou  pay  to  Isaac  ?  —  Methinks, 
to  judge  by  weight,  there  is  still  two  hundred  zecchins  in 
this  pouch." 

"  I  paid  to  Isaac,"  said  the  Saxon,  "  eighty  zecchins, 
and  he  restored  me  a  hundred  in  lieu  thereof." 

"  How  !  what !  "  exclaimed  all  the  robbers  at  once  ; 
"  darest  thou  trifle  with  us,  that  thou  tellest  such  im- 
probable lies  ?  " 

"  What  I  tell  you,"  said  Gurth,  "  is  as  true  as  the  moon 
is  in  heaven.  You  will  find  the  just  sum  in  a  silken  purse 
within  the  leathern  pouch,  and  separate  from  the  rest  of 
the  gold." 

"  Bethink  thee,  man,"  said  the  Captain,  "  thou  speak- 
est  of  a  Jew  —  of  an  Israelite,  — as  unapt  to  restore  gold 
as  the  dry  sand  of  his  deserts  to  return  the  cup  of  water 
which  the  pilgrim  spills  upon  them." 

"  There  is  no  more  mercy  in  them,"  said  another  of  the 
banditti,  "than  in  an  unbribed  sheriff's  officer." 

"  It  is,  however,  as  I  say,"  said  Gurth. 


118  IVANHOE. 

"  Strike  a  light  instantly/'  said  the  Captain  ;  "  I  will 
'examine  this  said  purse  ;  and  if  it  be  as  this  fellow  says, 
the  Jew's  bounty  is  little  less  miraculous  than  the  stream 
which  relieved  his  fathers  in  the  wilderness." 

A  light  was  procured  accordingly,  and  the  robber  pro- 
ceeded to  examine  the  purse.  The  others  crowded  around 
him,  and  even  two  who  had  hold  of  G-urth  relaxed  their 
grasp  while  they  stretched  their  necks  to  see  the  issue  of 
the  search.  Availing  himself  of  their  negligence,  by  a 
sudden  exertion  of  strength  and  activity  Gurth  shook 
himself  free  of  their  hold,  and  might  have  escaped,  could 
he  have  resolved  to  leave  his  master's  property  behind 
him.  But  such  was  no  part  of  his  intention.  He 
wrenched  a  quarter-staff  from  one  of  the  fellows,  struck 
down  the  Captain,  who  was  altogether  unaware  of  his 
purpose,  and  had  well-nigh  repossessed  himself  of  the 
pouch  and  treasure.  The  thieves,  however,  were  too 
nimble  for  him,  and  again  secured  both  the  bag  and  the 
trusty  Gurth. 

"  Knave ! "  said  the  Captain,  getting  up,  "  thou  hast 
broken  my  head,  and  with  other  men  of  our  sort  thou 
wouldst  fare  the  worse  for  thy  insolence.  But  thou  shalt 
know  thy  fate  instantly.  First  let  us  speak  of  thy  mas- 
ter; the  knight's  matters  must  go  before  the  squire's, 
according  to  the  due  order  of  chivalry.  Stand  thou  fast 
in  the  meantime  —  if  thou  stir  again,  thou  shalt  have  that 
will  make  thee  quiet  for  thy  life  —  Comrades  !  "  he  then 
said,  addressing  his  gang,  "  this  purse  is  embroidered  with 
Hebrew  characters,  and  I  well  believe  the  yeoman's  tale 
is  true.  The  errant  knight,  his  master,  must  needs  pass 
us  toll-free.  He  is  too  like  ourselves  for  us  to  make  booty 
of  him,  since  dogs  should  not  worry  dogs  where  wolves 
and  foxes  are  to  be  found  in  abundance." 

"  Like  us  !  "  answered  one  of  the  gang  ;  "  I  should  like 
to  hear  how  that  is  made  good." 

"  Why,  thou  fool,"  answered  the  Captain,  "  is  he  not 
poor  and  disinherited  as  we  are  ?  —  Doth  he  not  win  his 
substance  at  the  sword's  point  as  we  do  ?  —  Hath  he  not 
beaten  Front-de-Boeuf  and  Malvoisin,  even  as  we  would 
beat  them  if  we  could  ?  —  Is  he  not  the  enemy  to  life  and 


IVANHOE.  119 

death  of  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  whom  we  have  so  much 
reason  to  fear  ?  "  And  were  all  this  otherwise,  wouldst 
thou  have  us  show  a  worse  conscience  than  an  unbeliever, 
a  Hebrew  Jew  ?  " 

"  Nay,  that  were  a  shame,"  muttered  the  other  fellow ; 
"  and  yet,  when  I  served  in  the  band  of  stout  old  Gande- 
lyn,  we  had  no  such  scruples  of  conscience.  And  this 
insolent  peasant  —  he  too,  I  warrant  me,  is  to  be  dis- 
missed scatheless  ?  " 

"Not  if  thou  .canst  scathe  him,"  replied  the  Captain. 
"  Here,  fellow,"  continued  he,  addressing  Gurth,  "  canst 
thou  use  the  staff,  that  thou  startst  to  it  so  readily  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  said  Gurth,  "  thou  shouldst  be  best  able  to 
reply  to  that  question." 

"  Nay,  by  my  troth,  thou  gavest  me  a  round  knock," 
replied  the  Captain;  "do  as  much  for  this  fellow,  and 
thou  shalt  pass  scot-free,  and  if  thou  dost  not  —  why,  by 
my  faith,  as  thou  art  such  a  sturdy  knave,  I  think  I  must 
pay  thy  ransom  myself.  —  Take  thy  staff,  Miller,"  he 
added,  "  and  keep  thy  head ;  and  do  you  others  let  the 
fellow  go,  and  give  him  a  staff —  there  is  light  enough  to 
lay  on  load  by." 

The  two  champions,  being  alike  armed  with  quarter- 
staves,  stepped  forward  into  the  centre  of  the  open  space, 
in  order  to  have  the  full  benefit  of  the  moonlight;  the 
thieves  in  the  meantime  laughing,  and  crying  to  their 
comrade,  "  Miller !  beware  thy  toll-dish."  The  Miller, 
on  the  other  hand,  holding  his  quarter-staff  by  the  middle, 
and  making  it  nourish  round  his  head  after  the  fashion 
which  the  French  call  faire  le  moulinet,  exclaimed  boast- 
fully, "  Come  on,  churl,  an  thou  darest ;  thou  shalt  feel 
the  strength  of  a  miller's  thumb !  " 

"  If  thou  be'st  a  miller,"  answered  Gurth,  undauntedly, 
making  his  weapon  play  around  his  head  with  equal  dex- 
terity, "  thou  art  doubly  a  thief,  and  I,  as  a  true  man,  bid 
thee  defiance." 

So  saying,  the  two  champions  closed  together,  and  for 
a  few  minutes  they  displayed  great  equality  in  strength, 
courage,  and  skill,  intercepting  and  returning  the  blows 
ot  their  adversary  with  the  most  rapid  dexterity,  while, 


120  IVANHOE. 

from  the  continued  clatter  of  their  weapons,  a  person  at 
a  distance  might  have  supposed  that  there  were  at  least 
six  persons  engaged  on  each  side.  Less  obstinate,  and 
even  less  dangerous,  combats  have  been  described  in  good 
heroic  verse ;  but  that  of  G-urth  and  the  Miller  must  re- 
main unsung,  for  want  of  a  sacred  poet  to  do  justice  to 
its  eventful  progress.  Yet,  though  quarter-staff  play  be 
out  of  date,  what  we  can  in  prose  we  will  do  for  these 
bold  champions. 

Long  they  fought  equally,  until  the. Miller  began  to 
lose  temper  at  finding  himself  so  stoutl}7"  opposed,  and  at 
hearing  the  laughter  of  his  companions,  who,  as  usual  in 
such  cases,  enjoyed  his  vexation.  This  was  not  a  state 
of  mind  favourable  to  the  noble  game  of  quarter-staff,  in 
which,  as  in  ordinary  cudgel-playing,  the  utmost  coolness 
is  requisite ;  and  it  gave  G-urth,  whose  temper  was  steady, 
though  surly,  the  opportunity  of  acquiring  a  decided  ad- 
vantage, in  availing  himself  of  which  he  displayed  great 
mastery. 

The  Miller  pressed  furiously  forward,  dealing  blows 
with  either  end  of  his  weapon  alternately,  and  striving  to 
come  to  half-staff  distance,  while  Gurth  defended  him- 
self against  the  attack,  keeping  his  hands  about  a  yard 
asunder,  and  covering  himself  by  shifting  his  weapon 
with  great  celerity,  so  as  to  protect  his  head  and  body. 
Thus  did  he  maintain  the  defensive,  making  his  eye,  foot, 
.  and  hand  keep  true  time,  until,  observing  his  antagonist 
,to  lose  wind,  he  darted  the  staff  at  his  face  with  his  left 
hand ;  and,  as  the  Miller  endeavoured  to  parry  the  thrust,^ 
he  slid  his  right  hand  down  to  his  left,  and  with  the  full 
swing  of  the  weapon  struck  his  opponent  on  the  left  side 
of  the  head,  who  instantly  measured  his  length  upon  the 
green  sward. 

"  Well  and  yeomanly  done  ! "  shouted  the  robbers  ; 
"  fair  play  and  Old  England  for  ever  !  The  Saxon  has 
saved  both  his  purse  and  his  hide,  and  the  Miller  has  met 
his  match." 

"  Thou  mayst  go  thy  ways,  my  friend,"  said  the  Cap- 
tain, addressing  G-urth,  in  special  confirmation  of  the 
general  voice,  "  and  I  will  cause  two  of  my  comrades  to 


^pe-ll  Ar\A.  yecn\2Lr^y   done,.     .sj>oc-fteo  "tKe  robbers 


r> 


IVANHOE.  121 

guide  thee  by  the  best  way  to  thy  master's  pavilion,  and 
to  guard  thee  from  night-walkers  that  might  have  less 
tender  consciences  than  ours  ;  for  there  is  many  one  of 
them  upon  the  amble  in  such  a  night  as  this.  Take  heed, 
however,"  he  added  sternly;  "remember  thou  hast  re- 
cused to  tell  thy  name  —  ask  not  after  ours,  nor  endeavour 
to  discover  who  or  what  we  are,  for,  if  thou  makest  such 
an  attempt,  thou  wilt  come  by  worse  fortune  than  has  yet 
befallen  thee." 

Gurth  thanked  the  Captain  for  his  courtesy,  and  prom- 
ised to  attend  to  his  recommendation.  Two  of  the  out- 
laws, taking  up  their  quarter-staves,  and  desiring  Gurth 
to  follow  close  in  the  rear,  walked  roundly  forward  along 
a  bye-path,  which  traversed  a  thicket  and  the  broken 
ground  adjacent  to  it.  On  the  very  verge  of  the  thicket 
two  men  spoke  to  his  conductors,  and  receiving  an  answer 
in  a  whisper,  withdrew  into  the  wood,  and  suffered  them 
''to  pass  unmolested.  This  circumstance  induced  Gurth 
to  believe  both  that  the  gang  was  strong  in  numbers,  and 
that  they  kept  regular  guards  around  their  place  of  r^en^^ 
dezvous^-  6i^<u^ 

\V  lienthey  arrived  on  the  open  heath,  where  Gurth 
might  have  had  some  trouble  in  finding  his  road,  the 
thieves  guided  him  straight  forward  to  the  top  of  a  little 
eminence,  whence  he  could  see,  spread  beneath  him  in 
the  moonlight,  the  palisades  of  the  lists,  the  glimmering 
pavilions  pitched  at  either  end,  with  the  pennons  which 
adorned  them  fluttering  in  the  moonbeam,  and  from 
which  could  be  heard  the  hum  of  the  song  with  which 
the  sentinels  were  beguiling  their  night-watch. 

Here  the  thieves  stopt. 

"  We  go  with  you  no  farther,"  said  they  ;  "  it  were  not 
safe  that  we  should  do  so.  —  Remember  the  warning  you 
have  received :  keep  secret  what  has  this  night  befallen 
you,  and  you  will  have  no  room  to  repent  it ;  neglect  what 
is  now  told  you,  and  the  Tower  of  London  shall  not  pro- 
tect you  against  our  revenge." 

"  Good  night  to  you,  kind  sirs,"  said  Gurth  ;  "  I  shall 
remember  your  orders,  and  trust  that  there  is  no  offence 
in  wishing  you  a  safer  and  an  honester  trade." 


122  IVANHOE. 

Thus  they  parted,  the  outlaws  returning  in  the  direc- 
tion from  whence  they  had  come,  and  G-urth  proceeding 
to  the  tent  of  his  master,  to  whom,  notwithstanding  the 
injunction  he  had  received,  he  communicated  the  whole 
adventures  of  the  evening. 

The  Disinherited  Knight  was  filled  with  astonishment, 
no  less  at  the  generosity  of  Rebecca,  by  which,  however, 
he  resolved  he  would  not  profit,  than  that  of  the  robbers, 
to  whose  profession  such  a  quality  seemed  totally  for- 
eign. His  course  of  reflections  upon  these  singular  cir- 
cumstances was,  however,  interrupted  by  the  necessity 
for  taking  repose,  which  the  fatigue  of  the  preceding  day 
and  the  propriety  of  refreshing  himself  for  the  morrow's 
encounter  rendered  alike  indispensable.  x^OJo^ 

The  knight,  therefore,  stretched  himself  for  repose 
upon  a  rich  couch  with  which  the  tent  was  provided ; 
and  the  faithful  Gurth,  extending  his  hardy  limbs  upon 
a  bear-skin  which  formed  a  sort  of  carpet  to  the  pavilion, 
laid  himself  across  the  opening  of  the  tent,  so  that  no 
one  could  enter  without  awakening  him. 


? 


CHAPTER   XII. 

The  heralds  left  their  pricking  up  and  down,  J 

Now  ringen  trumpets  loud  and  clarion. 

There~tSTio  rnore,to  say,  but  east  and  west, 

In  go  the  speares  sadly  in  the  rest, 

In  goth  the  sharp  spur  into  the  side, 

There  see  men  who  can  just  and  who  can  ride ; 

There  shiver  shaftes  upon  shieldes  thick, 

He  feeleth  through  the  heart-spone  the  prick  ;     • 

Up  springen  speares,  twenty  feet  in  height, 

Out  go  the  swordes  as  the  silver  bright ; 

The  helms  they  to-hewn  and  to-shred  ; 

Out  bursts  the  blood  with  stern  stream es  red. 

Chaucer. 

Morning  arose  in  unclouded  splendour,  and  ere  the 
sun  was  much  above  the  horizon  the  idlest  or  the  most 
eager  of  the  spectators  appeared  on  the  common,  moving 
to  the  lists  as  to  a  general  centre,  in  order  to  secure  a 


IVANHOE.  123 

favourable  situation  for  viewing  the  continuation  of  the 
expected  games. 

The  marshals  and  their  attendants  appeared  next  on 
the  field,  together  with  the  heralds,  for  the  purpose  of 
receiving  the  names  of  the  knights  who  intended  to  joust, 
with  the  side  which  each  chose  to  espouse.- -This  was  a 
necessary  precaution,  in  order  to  secure  equality  betwixt 
the  two  bodies  who  should  be  opposed  to  each  other. 

According  to  due  formality,  the  Disinherited  Knight 
was  to  be  considered  as  leader  of  the  one  body,  while 
Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  who  had  been  rated  as  having 
done  second-best  in  the  preceding  day,  was  named  first 
champion  of  the  other  band.  Those  who  had  concurred 
in  the  challenge  adhered  to  his  party,  of  course,  except- 
ing only  Ralph  de  Vipont,  whom  his  fall  had  rendered 
unfit  so  soon  to  put  on  his  armour.  There  was  no  want 
of  distinguished  and  noble  candidates  to  fill  up  the  ranks 
on  either  side. 

In  fact,  although  the  general  tournament,  in  which  all 
knights  fought  at  once,  was  more  dangerous  than  single 
encounters,  they  were,  nevertheless,  more  frequented  and 
practised  by  the  chivalry  of  the  age.  Many  knights,  who 
had  not  sufficient  confidence  in  their  own  skill  to  defy  a 
single  adversary  of  high  reputation,  were,  nevertheless, 
desirous  of  displaying  their  valour  in  the  general  combat, 
where  they  might  meet  others  with  whom  they  were 
more  upon  an  equality.  On  the  present  occasion,  about 
fifty  knights  were  inscribed  as  desirous  of  combating 
upon  each  side,  when  the  marshals  declared  that  no  more 
could  be  admitted,  to  the  disappointment  of  several  who 
were  too  late  in  preferring  their  claim  to  be  included. 

About  the  hour  of  ten  o'clock  the  whole  plain  was 
crowded  with  horsemen,  horsewomen,  and  foot-passen- 
gers, hastening  to  the  tournament;  and  shortly  after,  a 
grand  flourish  of  trumpets  announced  Prince  John  and 
his  retinue,  attended  by  many  of  those  knights  who 
meant  to  take  share  in  the  game,  as  well  as  others  who 
had  no  such  intention. 

About  the  same  time  arrived  Cedric  the  Saxon,  with 
the  Lady  Kowena,  unattended,  however,  by  Athelstane. 


124  IVANHOE. 

This  Saxon  lord  had  arrayed  his  tall  and  strong  person 
in  armour,  in  order  to  take  his  place  among  the  combat- 
ants ;  and,  considerably  to  the  surprise  of  Cedric,  had 
chosen  to  enlist  himself  on  the  part  of  the  Knight  Tem- 
plar. The  Saxon,  indeed,  had  remonstrated  strongly 
with  his  friend  upon  the  injudicious  choice  he  had  made 
of  his  party ;  but  he  had  only  received  that  sort  of  an- 
swer usually  given  by  those  who  are  more  obstinate  in 
following  their  own  course  than  strong  in  justifying  it. 

His  best,  if  not  his  only,  reason  for  adhering  to  the 
party  of  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  Athelstane  had  thejiru- 
dence  to  keep  to  himself.  Though  his  apathy  of  disposi- 
tion prevented  his  taking  any  means  to  recommend  him- 
self to  the  Lady  Rowena,  he  was,  nevertheless,  by  no 
means  insensible  to  her  charms,  and  considered  his  union 
with  her  as  a  matter  already  fixed  beyond  doubt  by  the 
assent  of  Cedric  and  her  other  friends.  It  had  therefore 
been  with  smothered  displeasure  that  the  proud  though 
indolent  Lord  of  Coningsburgh  beheld  the  victor  of  the 
preceding  day  select  Rowena  as  the  object  of  that  honour 
which  it  became  his  privilege  to  confer.  In  order  to 
punish  him  for  a  preference  which  seemed  to  interfere 
with  his  own  suit,  Athelstane,  confident  of  his  strength, 
and  to  whom  his  flatterers,  at  least,  ascribed  great  skill 
in  arms,  had  determined  not  only  to  deprive  the  Disin- 
herited Knight  of  his  powerful  succour,  but,  if  an  oppor- 
tunity should  occur,  to  make  him  feel  the  weight  of  his 
battle-axe. 

De  Bracy,  and  other  knights  attached  to  Prince  John, 
in  obedience  to  a  hint  from  him,  had  joined  the  party  of 
the  challengers,  John  being  desirous  to  secure,  if  possi- 
ble, the  victory  to  that  side.  On  the  other  hand,  many 
other  knights,  both  English  and  Norman,  natives  and 
strangers,  took  part  against  the  challengers,  the  more 
readily  that  the  opposite  band  was  to  be  led  by  so  dis- 
tinguished a  champion  as  the  Disinherited  Knight  had 
proved  himself. 

As  soon  as  Prince  John  observed  that  the  destined 
Queen  of  the  day  had  arrived  upon  the  field,  assuming 
that  air  of  courtesy  which  sat  well  upon  him  when  he 


IVANHOE.  125 

was  pleased  to  exhibit  it,  he  rode  forward  to  meet  her, 
doffed  his  bonnet,  and,  alighting  from  his  horse,  assisted 
ElieTLady  Rowena  from  her  saddle,  while  his  followers 
uncovered  at  the  same  time,  and  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guished dismounted  to  hold  her  palfrey. 

"  It  is  thus,"  said  Prince  John,  "  that  we  set  the  duti- 
ful example  of  loyalty  to  the  Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty, 
and  are  ourselves  her  guide  to  the  throne  which  she  must 
this  day  occupy.  —  Ladies,"  he  said,  "  attend  your  Queen, 
as  you  wish  in  your  turn  to  be  distinguished  by  like 
honours." 

So  saying,  the  Prince  marshalled  Rowena  to  the  seat 
of  honour  opposite  his  own,  while  the  fairest  and  most 
distinguished  ladies  present  crowded  after  her  to  obtain 
places  as  near  as  possible  to  their  temporary  sovereign. 

No  sooner  was  Rowena  seated  than  a  burst  of  music, 
half  drowned  by  the  shouts  of  the  multitude,  greeted  her 
new  dignity.  Meantime,  the  sun  shone  fierce  and  bright 
upon  the  polished  arms  of  the  knights  of  either  side, 
who  crowded  the  opposite  extremities  of  the  lists,  and 
held  eager  conference  together  concerning  the  best 
mode  of  arranging  their  line  of  battle  and  supporting 
the  conflict. 

The  heralds  then  proclaimed  silence  until  the  laws  of 
the  tourney  should  be  rehearsed.     These  were  calculated/^ 
in  some  degree  to  abate  the  dangers  of  the  day  —  a  pre- 
caution the  more  necessary  as  the  conflict  was  to  be  main- 
tained with  sharp  swords  and  pointed  lances. 

The  champions  were  therefore  prohibited  to  thrust 
with  the  sword,  and  were^onfined  to  striking.  A  knight, 
it  was  announced,  might  use  a  mace  or  battle-axe  at 
pleasure;  but  the  dagger  was  a  prohibited  weapon.  A 
knight  unhorsed  might  renew  the  fight  on  foot  with  any 
other  on  the  opposite  side  in  the  same  predicament ;  but 
mounted  horsemen  were  in  that  case  forbidden  to  assail 
him.  When  any  knight  could  force  his  antagonist  to  the 
extremity  of  the  lists,  so  as  to  touch  the  palisade  with 
his  person  or  arms,  such  opponent  was  obliged  to  yield 
himself  vanquished,  and  his  armour  and  horse  were 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  conqueror.     A  knight  thus 


126  IVANHOE. 

overcome  was  not  permitted  to  take  farther  share  in  the 
combat.  If  any  combatant  was  struck  down,  and  unable 
to  recover  his  feet,  his  squire  or  page  might  enter  the 
lists  and  drag  his  master  out  of  the  press ;  but  in  that 
case  the  knight  was  adjudged  vanquished,  and  his  arms 
and  horse  declared  forfeited.  The  combat  was  to  cease 
as  soon  as  Prince  John  should  throw  down  his  leading 
staff,  or  truncheon  —  another  precaution  usually  taken  to 
prevent  the  unnecessary  effusion  of  blood  by  the  too  long 
endurance  of  a  sport  so  desperate.  Any  knight  breaking 
the  rules  of  the  tournament,  or  otherwise  transgressing 
the  rules  of  honourable  chivalry,  was  liable'  to  be  stript 
of  his  arms,  and,  having  his  shield  reversed,  to  be  placed 
in  that  posture  astride  upon  the  bars  of  the  palisade,  and 
exposed  to  public  derision,  in  punishment  of  his  un- 
knightly  conduct.  Having  announced  these  precautions, 
the  heralds  concluded  with  an  exhortation  to  each  good 
knight  to  do  his  duty,  and  to  merit  favour  from  the 
Queen  of  Beauty  and  Love. 

This  proclamation  having  been  made,  the  heralds  with- 
drew to  their  stations.  The  knights,  entering  at  either 
end  of  the  lists  in  long  procession,  arranged  themselves 
in  a  double  file,  precisely  opposite  to  each  other,  the 
leader  of  each  party  being  in  the  centre  of  the  foremost 
rank,  a  post  which  he  did  not  occupy  until  each  had  care- 
fully arranged  the  ranks  of  his  party,  and  stationed  every 
one  in  his  place. 

It  was  a  goodly,  and  at  the  same  time  an  anxious,  sight 
to  behold  so  many  gallant  champions,  mounted  bravely 
and  armed  richly,  stand  ready  prepared  for  an  encounter 
so  formidable,  seated  on  their  war-saddles  like  so  many 
pillars  of  iron,  and  awaiting  the  signal  of  encounter  with 
the  same  ardour  as  their  generous  steeds,  which,  by 
neighing  and  pawing  the  ground,  gave  signal  of  their 
impatience. 

As  yet  the  knights  held  their  long  lances  upright,  their 
bright  points  glancing  to  the  sun,  and  the  streamers  with 
which  they  were  decorated  fluttering  over  the  plumage 
of  the  helmets.  Thus  they  remained  while  the  marshals 
of  the  field  surveyed  their  ranks  with  the  utmost  exact- 


IVANHOE.  127 

ness,  lest  either  party  had  more  or  fewer  than  the  ap- 
pointed number.  The  tale  was  found  exactly  complete.  ' 
The  marshals  then  withdrew  from  the  lists,  and  William 
de  Wyvil,  with  a  voice  of  thunder,  pronounced  the  signal 
words,  "  Laissez  allerV  The  trumpets  sounded  as  he 
spoke  —  the  spears  of  the  champions  were  at  once  low- 
ered and  placed  in  the  rests  —  the  spurs  were  dashed  into 
the  flanks  of  the  horses,  and  the  two  foremost  ranks  of 
either  party  rushed  upon  each  other  in  full  gallop,  and 
met  in  the  middle  of  the  lists  with  a  shock  the  sound  of 
which  was  heard  at  a  mile's  distance.  The  rear  rank  of 
each  party  advanced  at  a  slower  pace  to  sustain  the 
defeated,  and  follow  up  the  success  of  the  victors,  of 
their  party. 

The  consequences  of  the  encounter  were  not  instantly 
seen,  for  the  dust  raised  by  the  trampling  of  so  many 
steeds  darkened  the  air,  and  it  was  a  minute  ere  the 
anxious  spectators  could  see  the  fate  of  the  encounter. 
When  the  fight  became  visible,  half  the  knights  on  each 
side  were  dismounted  —  some  by  the  dexterity  of  their 
adversary's  lance;  some  by  the  superior  weight  and 
strength  of  opponents,  which  had  borne  down  both  horse 
and  man ;  some  lay  stretched  on  earth  as  if  never  mOre 
to  rise;  some  had  already  gained  their  feet,  and  were 
closing  hand  to  hand  with  those  of  their  antagonists  who 
were  in  the  same  predicament ;  and  several  on  both  sides, 
who  had  received  wounds  by  which  they  were  disabled, 
were  stopping  their  blood  by  their  scarfs,  and  endeav-^ 
ouring  to  extricate  themselves  from  the  tumult.  The 
mounted  knights,  whose  lances  had  been  almost  all  broken 
by  the  fury  of  the  encounter,  were  now  closely  engaged 
with  their  swords,  shouting  their  war-cries,  and  exchang- 
ing buffets,  as  if  honour  and  life  depended  on  the  issue 
of  the  combat. 

The  tumult  was  presently  increased  by  the  advance  of 
the  second  rank  on  either  side,  which,  acting  as  a  reserve, 
now  rushed  on  to  aid  their  companions.  The  followers 
of  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  shouted :  "  Ha !  Beau-seaid  I 
Beau-seant!  Foe  the  Temple  !  For  the  Temple  !  "  The 
opposite  party  shouted  in  answer:  "Besdichado!  Desdi- 


128  IV AX  HOE. 

chado!"  which  watchword  they  took  from  the  motto 
upon  their  leader's  shield. 

The  champions  thus  encountering  each  other  with  the 
utmost  fury,  and  with  alternate  success,  the  tide  of  battle 
seemed  to  flow  now  toward  the  southern,  now  toward  the 
northern,  extremity  of  the  lists,  as  the  one  or  the  other 

J  \j  7 

party  prevailed.  Meantime  the  clang  of  the  blows  and  the 
shouts  of  the  combatants  mixed  fearfully  with  the  sound 
of  the  trumpets,  and  drowned  the  groans  of  those  who 
fell,  and  lay  rolling  defenceless  beneath  the  feet  of  the 
horses.  The  splendid  armour  of  the  combatants  was 
now  defaced  with  dust  and  blood,  and  gave  way  at 
every  stroke  of  the  sword  and  battle-axe.  The  gay 
plumage,  shorn  from  the  crests,  drifted  upon  the  breeze 
like  snow-flakes.  All  that  was  beautiful  and  graceful 
in  the  martial  array  had  disappeared,  and  what  was 
now  visible  was  only  calculated  to  awake  terror  or  com- 
passion,     -"feu 

Yet  such  is  the  force  of  habit,  that  not  onlv  the  vulgar 
spectators,  who  are  naturally  attracted  by  sights  of  horror, 
but  even  the  ladies  of  distinction,  who  crowded  the  gal- 
leries, saw  the  conflict  with  a  thrilling  interest  certainlv. 
but  without  a  wish  to  withdraw  their  eyes  from  a  sight 
so  terrible.  Here  and  there,  indeed,  a  fair  cheek  might 
turn  pale,  or  a  faint  scream  might  be  heard,  as  a  lover, 
a  brother,  or  a  husband  was  struck  from  his  horse.  But. 
in  general,  the  ladies  afound  encouraged  the  combatants, 
not  only  by  clapping  their  hands  and  waving  their  veils 
and  kerchiefs,  but  even  by  exclaiming,  "  Brave  lance ! 
Good  sword ! n  when  anv  successful  thrust  or  blow  took 
place  under  their  observation. 

Such  being  the  interest  taken  by  the  fair  sex  in  this 
bloody  game,  that  of  the  men  is  the  more  easily  under- 
stood. It  showed  itself  in  loud  acclamations  upon  every 
change  of  fortune,  while  all  eyes  were  so  riveted  on  the 
lists  that  the  spectators  seemed  as  if  they  themselves 
had  dealt  and  received  the  blows  which  were  there  so 
freely  bestowed.  And  between  every  pause  was  heard 
the  voice  of  the  heralds  exclaiming.  LEight  on.  brave 
knights  !     Man  dies,  but  glory  lives  !  —  Fight  on  —  death 


IVANHOE.  129 

is  better  than  defeat !  —  Fight  on,  brave  knights  !  —  for 
bright  eyes  behold  your  deeds  !  " 

Amid  the  varied  fortunes  of  the  combat,  the  eyes  of 
all  endeavoured  to  discover  the  leaders  of  each  band, 
who,  mingling  in  the  thick  of  the  fight,  encouraged  their 
companions  both  by  voice  and  example.  Both  displayed 
srreat  feats  of  gallantry,  nor  did  either  Bois-Guilbert  or 
the  Disinherited  Knight  find  in  the  ranks  opposed  to 
them  a  champion  who  could  be  termed  their  unquestioned 
match.  They  repeatedly  endeavoured  to  single  out  each 
other,  spurred  by  mutual  animosity,  and  aware  that  the 
fall  of  either  leader  might  loe  considered  as  decisive  of 
victory.  Such,  however,  was  the  crowd  and  confusion 
that,  during  the  earlier  part  of  the  conflict,  their  efforts 
to  meet  were  unavailing,  and  they  were  repeatedly  sepa- 
rated by  the  eagerness  of  their  followers,  each  of  whom 
was  anxious  to  win  honour  by  measuring  his  strength 
against  the  leader  of  the  opposite  party. 

But  when  the  field  became  thin  by  the  numbers  on 
either  side  who  had  yielded  themselves  vanquished,  had 
been  compelled  to  the  extremity  of  the  lists,  or  been  other- 
wise rendered  incapable  of  continuing  the  strife,  the  Tem- 
plar and  the  Disinherited  Knight  at  length  encountered 
hand  to  hand,  with  all  the  fury  that  mortal  animosity, 
joined  to  rivalry  of  honour,  could  inspire.  Such  was  the 
address  of  each  in  parrying  and  striking,  that  the  spec- 
tators broke  forth  into  a  unanimous  and  involuntary  shout, 
expressive  of  their  delight  and  admiration. 

^utattliisjnoment  the  party  of  the  Disinherited  Knight 
haclthe  worst ;  the  gigantic  arm  of  Front-de-Bceuf  on  the 
one  flank,  and  the  ponderous  strength  of  Athelstane  on 
the  other,  bearing  down  and  dispersing  those  immediately 
exposed  to  them.  Finding  themselves  freed  from  their 
immediate  antagonists,  it  seems  to  have  occurred  to  both 
these  knights  at  the  same  instant  that  they  would  render 
the  most  decisive  advantage  to  their  party  by  aiding  the 
Templar  in  his  contest  with  his  rival.  Turning  their 
horses,  therefore,  at  the  same  moment,  the  Norman 
spurred  against  the  Disinherited  Knight  on  the  one  side 
and  the  Saxon  on  the  other.     It  was  utterly  impossible 

K 


130  IYANHOE. 

that  the  object  of  this  unequal  and  unexpected  assault 
could  have  sustained  it,  had  he  not  been  warned  by  a 
general  cry  from  the  spectators,  who  could  not  but  take 
interest  in  one  exposed  to  such  disadvantage. 

"Beware!  beware!  Sir  Disinherited !  "  was  shouted  so 
universally  that  the  knight  became  aware  of  his  danger  • 
and  striking  a  full  blow  at  the  Templar,  he  reined  back 
his  steed  in  the  same  moment,  so  as  to  escape  the  charge 
of  Athelstane  and  Front-de-Bceuf.  These  knights,  there- 
fore, their  aim  being  thus  eluded,  rushed  from  opposite 
sides  betwixt  the  object  of  their  attack  and  the  Templar, 
almost  running  their  horses  against  each  other  ere  they 
could  stop  their  career.  Recovering  their  horses,  how- 
ever, and  wheeling  them  round,  the  whole  three  pursued 
their  united  purpose  of  bearing  to  the  earth  the  Disin- 
herited Knight. 

Nothing  could  have  saved  him  except  the  remarkable 
strength  and  activity  of  the  noble  horse  which  he  had 
won  on  the  preceding  day. 

This  stood  him  in  the  more  stead,  as  the  horse  of  Bois- 
Guilbert  was  wounded,  and  those  of  Front-de-Boeuf  and 
Athelstane  were  both  tired  with  the  weight  of  their  gigan- 
tic masters,  clad  in  complete  armour,  and  with  the  pre- 
ceding exertions  of  the  day.  The  masterly  horsemanship 
of  the  Disinherited  Knight,  and  the  activity  of  the  noble 
animal  which  he  mounted,  enabled  him  for  a  few  minutes 
to  keep  at  sword's  point  his  three  antagonists,  turning 
and  wheeling  with  the  agility  of  a  hawk  upon  the  wing, 
keeping  his  enemies  as  far  separate  as  he  could,  and  rush- 
ing now  against  the  one,  now  against  the  other,  dealing 
sweeping  blows  with  his  sword,  without  waiting  to  receive 
those  which  were  aimed  at  him  in  return. 

But  although  the  lists  rang  with  the  applauses  of  his 
dexterity,  it  was  evident  that  he  must  at  last  be  over- 
powered; and  the  nobles  around  Prince  John  implored 
him  with  one  voice  to  throw  down  his  warder,  and  to 
save  so  brave  a  knight  from  the  disgrace  of  being  over- 
come by  odds. 

"  Not  I,  by  the  light  of  Heaven  !  "  answered  Prince 
John  j  "  this  same  springal,  who  conceals  his  name  and 


IVANHOE 


despises  our  proffered  hospitality,  hath  already  gained 
one  prize,  and  may  now  afford  to  let  others  have  their 
turn."  As  he  spoke  thus,  au  unexpected  incident  changed 
the  fortune  of  the  day. 

There  was  among  the  ranks  of  the  Disinherited  Knight 
a  champion  in  black  armour,  mounted  on  a  black  horse, 
large  of  size,  tall,  and  to  all  appearance  powerful  and 
strong,  like  the  rider  by  whom  he  was  mounted.  This 
knight,  who  bore  on  his  shield  no  device  of  any  kind,  had 
hitherto  evinced  very  little  interest  in  the  event  of  the  <&< 
fight,  beating  off  with  seeming  ease  those  combatants  who 
;  attacked  him,  but  neither  pursuing  his  advantages  nor 
\f  himself  assailing  any  one.  In  short,  he  had  hitherto  acted 
the  part  rather  of  a  spectator  than  of  a  party  in  the  tourna- 
ment, a  circumstance  which  procured  him  among  the  spec- 
tators the  name  of  Le  Noir  Faineant,  or  the  Black  Sluggard. 

At  once  this  knight  seemed  to  throw  aside  his  apathy, 
when  he  discovered  the  leader  of  his  party  so  hard  bested ; 
for,  settiug  spurs  to  his  horse,  which  was  quite  fresh,  he 
came  to  his  assistance  like  a  thunderbolt,  exclaiming,  in 
a  voice  like  a  trumpet-call,  "  Desdichado,  to  the  rescue  ! " 
It  was  high  time ;  for,  while  the  Disinherited  Knight  was 
pressing  upon  the  Templar,  Front-de-Bceuf  had  got  nigh 
to  him  with  his  uplifted  sword ;  but  ere  the  blow  could 
descend,  the  Sable  Knight  dealt  a  stroke  on  his  head, 
which,  glancing  from  the  polished  helmet,  lighted  with 
violence  scarcely  abated  on  the  chamfron  of  the  steed, 
and  Front-de-Bceuf  rolled  on  the  ground,  both  horse  and 
^ty  man  equally  stunned  by  the  fury  of  the  blow.  Le  Noir 
Faineant  then  turned  his  horse  upon  Athelstane  of  Con- 
ingsburgh ;  and  his  own  sword  having  been  broken  in  his 
encounter  with  Front-de-Bceuf,  he  wrenched  from  the 
hand  of  the  bulky  Saxon  the  battle-axe  which  he  wielded, 
and,  like  one  familiar  with  the  use  of  the  weapon,  be- 
stowed him  such  a  blow  upon  the  crest  that  Athelstane 
also  lay  senseless  on  the  field.  Having  achieved  this 
double  feat,  for  which  he  was  the  more  highly  applauded 
that  it  was  totally  unexpected  from  him,  the  knight, 
seemed  to  resume  the  sluggishness  of  his  character,  re-  ' 
turning  calmly  to  the  northern    extremity  of   the  lists, 


132  IVANHOE. 


leaving  his  leader  tocope  as  he  best  could  with  Brian 
de  Bois-Guilbert.  This  was  no  longer  matter  of  so  much 
difficulty  as  formerly.  The  Templar's  horse  had  bled 
much,  and  gave  way  under  the  shock  of  the  Disinherited 
Knight's  charge.  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  rolled  on  the 
field,  encumbered  with  the  stirrup,  from  which  he  was 
unable  to  draw  his  foot.  His  antagonist  sprung  from 
horseback,  waved  his  fatal  sword  over  the  head  of  his 
adversary,  and  commanded  him  to  yield  himself;  when 
Prince  John,  more  moved  by  the  Templar's  dangerous 
situation  than  he  had  been  by  that  of  his  rival,  saved 
him  the  mortification  of  confessing  himself  vanquished 
by  casting  down  his  warder  and  putting  an  end  to  the 
conflict. 

It  was,  indeed,  only  the  relics  and  embers  of  the  fight 
which  continued  to  burn;    for  of  the  few  knights  who 
still  continued  in  the  lists,  the  greater  part  had,  byJ^ajoiL^ 
consent,  forborne  the  conflict  for  some  time,  leaving  it  to 
be  determined  by  the  strife  of  the  leaders. 

The  squires,  who  had  found  it  a  matter  of  danger  am 
difficulty  to  attend  their  masters  during  the  engagement, 
now  thronged  into  the  lists  to  pay  their  dutiful  attend- 
ance to  the  wounded,  who  were  removed  with  the  utmost 
care  and  attention  to  the  neighbouring  pavilions,  or  to 
the  quarters  prepared  for  them  in  the  adjoining  village. 

Thus  ended  the  memorable  field  of  Ashby-de-la-Zouche, 
one  of  the  most  gallantly  contested  tournaments  of  that 
age ;  for  although  only  four  knights,  including  one  who 
was  smothered  by  the  heat  of  his  armour,  had  died  upon 
the  field,  yet  upwards  of  thirty  were  desperately  wounded, 
four  or  five  of  whom  never  recovered.  Several  more  were 
disabled  for  life ;  and  those  who  escaped  best,  carried  the 
marks  of  the  conflict  to  the  grave  with  them.  Hence  it 
is  always  mentioned  in  the  old  records  as  the  Gentle  and 
Joyous  Passage  of  Arms  of  Ashby. 

It  being  now  the  duty  of  Prince  John  to  name  the 
knight  who  had  done  best,  he  determined  that  the  honour 
of  the  day  remained  with  the  knight  whom  the  popular 
voice  had  termed  Le  Noir  Faineant.  It  was  pointed  out 
to  the  Prince,  in  impeachment  of  this  decree,  that  the  vie- 


IVANHOE.  133 

tory  had  been  in  fact  won  by  the  Disinherited  Knight, 
who,  in  the  course  of  the  day,  had  overcome  six  cham- 
-  pions  with  his  own  hand,  and  who  had  finally  unhorsed 
and  struck  down  the  leader  of  the  opposite  party.  But 
Prince  John  adhered,  to  his  own  opinion,  on  the  ground 
that  the  Disinherited  Knight  and  his  party  had  lost  the 
day  but  for  the  powerful  assistance  of  the  Knight  of  the 
Black  Armour,  to  whom,  therefore,  he  persisted  in  award-,  c 
ing  the  prize.  .  , 

To  the  surprise  of  all  present,  however,  the  knight  thus 
preferred  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  He  had  left  the  lists 
immediately  when  the  conflict  ceased,  and  had  been  ob- 
served by  some  spectators  to  move  down  one  of  the  forest 
glades  with  the  same  slow  pace  and  listless  and  indiffer- 
ent manner  which  had  procured  him  the  epithet  of  the 
Black  Sluggard.  After  he  had  been  summoned  twice  by 
sound  of  trumpet  and  proclamation  of  the  heralds,  it 
became  necessary  to  name  another  to  receive  the  honours 
which  had  been  assigned  to  him.  Prince  John  had  now 
no  further  excuse  for  resisting  the  claim  of  the  Disinher- 
ited Knight,  whom,  therefore,  he  named  the  champion  of 
the  day. 

Through  a  field  slippery  with  blood  and  encumbered 
with  broken  armour  and  the  bodies  of  slain  and  wounded 
horses,  the  marshals  of  the  lists  again  conducted  the  vic- 
tor to  the  foot  of  Prince  John's  throne. 

"Disinherited  Knight,"  said  Prince  John,  "since  by 
that  title  only  you  will  consent  to  be  known  to  us,  we  a 
second  time  award  to  you  the  honours  of  this  tournament, 
and  announce  to  you  your  right  to  claim  and  receive  from 
the  hands  of  the  Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty  the  chaplet 
of  honour  which  your  valour  has  justly  deserved." 

The  Knight  bowed  low  and  gracefully,  but  returned  no 
answer. 

While  the  trumpets  sounded,  while  the  heralds  strained 
their  voices  in  proclaiming  honour  to  the  brave  and  glory 
to  the  victor,  while  ladies  waved  their  silken  kerchiefs 
and  embroidered  veils,  and  while  all  ranks  joined  in  a 
clamorous  shout  of  exultation,  the  marshals  conducted 
the  Disinherited  Knight  across  the  lists  to  the  foot  of 


134  IVANHOE. 

that  throne  of  honour  which  was  occupied  by  the  Lady 
Rowena. 

On  the  lower  step  of  this  throne  the  champion  was 
made  to  kneel  down.  Indeed,  his  whole  action  since  the 
fight  had  ended  seemed  rather  to  have  been  upon  the  im- 
pulse of  those  around  him  than  from  his  own  free  will; 
and  it  was  observed  that  he  tottered  as  they  guided  him 
the  second  time  across  the  lists.  Rowena,  descending 
from  her  station  with  a  graceful  and  dignified  step,  was 
about  to  place  the  chaplet  which  she  held  in  her  hand 
upon  the  helmet  of  the  champion,  when  the  marshals  ex- 
claimed with  one  voice,  "  It  must  not  be  thus  —  his  head 
must  be  bare."  The  Knight  muttered  faintly  a  few  words, 
which  were  lost  in  the  hollow  of  his  helmet;  but  their 
purport  seemed  to  be  a  desire  that  his  casque  might  not 
be  removed. 

Whether  from  love  of  form  or  from  curiosity,  the  mar- 
shals paid  no  attention  to  his  expressions  of  reluctance, 
but  unhelmed  him  by  cutting  the  laces  of  his  casque,  and 
undoing  the  fastening  of  his  gorget.  When  the  helmet 
was  removed,  the  well-formed  yet  sunburnt  features  of  a 
young  man  of  twenty-five  were  seen,  amidst  a  profusion 
of  short  fair  hair.  His  countenance  was  as  pale  as  death,  v 
and  marked  in  one  or  two  places  with  streaks  of  blood. 

Rowena  had  no  sooner  beheld  him  than  she  uttered  a 
faint  shriek ;  but  at  once  summoning  up  the  energy  of 
her  disposition,  and  compelling  herself,  as  it  were,  to 
proceed,  while  her  frame  yet  trembled  with  the  violence 
of  sudden  emotion,  she  placed  upon  the  drooping  head  of 
the  victor  the  splendid  chaplet  which  was  the  destined 
reward  of  the  day,  and  pronounced  in  a  clear  and  distinct 
tone  these  words :  "  I  bestow  on  thee  this  chaplet,  Sir 
Knight,  as  the  meed  of  valour  assigned  to  this  day's  vic- 
tor." Here  she  paused  a  moment,  and  then  firmly  added, 
"  And  upon  brows  more  worthy  could  a  wreath  of  chivalry 
•v  never  be  placed !  " 

The  knight  stooped  his  head  and  kissed  the  hand  of  the 
lovely  Sovereign  by  whom  his  valour  had  been  rewarded  ; 
and  then,  sinking  yet  farther  forward,  lay  prostrate  at 
her  feet. 


IVANHOE.  135 

i 

There  was  a  general  consternation.  Cedric,  who  had 
been  struck  mute  by  the  sudden  appearance  of  his  ban- 
ished son,  now  rushed  forward,  as  if  to  separate  him  from 
Eowena.  But  this  had  been  already  accomplished  by  the 
marshals  of  the  field,  who,  guessing  the  cause  of  Ivanhoe's 
.swoon,  had  hastened  to  undo  his  armour,  and  found  that 
the  head  of  a  lance  had  penetrated  his  breastplate  and 
inflicted  a  wound  in  his  side. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

*  Heroes,  approach  ! '  Atrides  thus  aloud  ; 

'  Stand  forth  distinguish' d  from  the  circling  crowd, 

Ye  who  hy  skill  and  manly  force  may  claim 

Your  rivals  to  surpass  and  merit  fame. 

This  cow,  worth  twenty  oxen,  is  decreed 

For  him  who  farthest  sends  the  winged  reed.' 

Iliad. 

The  name  of  Ivanhoe  was  no  sooner  pronounced  than 
it  flew  from  mouth  to  mouth  with  all  the  celerity  with 
which  eagerness  could  convey  and  curiosity  receive  it. 
It  was  not  long  ere  it  reached  the  circle  of  the  Prince, 
whose  brow  darkened  as  he  heard  the  news.  Looking 
around  him,  however,  with  an  air  of  scorn,  "  My  lords," 
said  he,  "  and  especially  you,  Sir  Prior,  what  think  ye  of 
the  doctrine  the  learned  tell  us  concerning  innate  attrac-7I_: 
tions  and  antipathies  ?  Methinks  that  I  felt  the  presence 
"  of  my  brother's  minion,  even  when  I  least  guessed  whom 
yonder  suit  of  armour  inclosed." 

"  Frim±=de-Boeuf  must  prepare  to  restore  his  fief  of 
Ivanhoe,"  said  De  Bracy,  who,  having  discharged  his 
part  honourably  in  the  tournament,  had  laid  his  shield 
and  helmet  aside,  and  again  mingled  with  the  Prince's 
retinue. 

"  Ay,"  answered  Waldemar  Fitzurse,  "  this  gallant  is 
likely  to  reclaim  the  castle  and  manor  which  Richard  ;0 
assigned  to  him,  and  which  your  Highness's  generosity 
has  since  given  toFront-de-Boeuf." 

"  Front-de-Boeuf,"  replied  John,  "  is  a  man  more  will- 


V. 


136  IVANHOE. 

ing  to  swallow  three  manors  such  as  Ivanhoe  than  to  dis- 
gorge one  of  them.  For  the  rest,  sirs,  I  hope  none  here 
will  deny  my  right  to  confer  the  fiefs  of  the  crown  upon 
the  faithful  followers  who  are  around  me,  and  ready  to 
perform  the  usual  military  service,  in  the  room  of  those 
who  have  wandered  to  foreign  countries,  and  can  neither 
reader  homage  nor  service  when  called  upon." 

The  audience  were  too  much  interested  in  the  question 

not  to  pronounce  the  Prince's  assumed  right  altogether 

indubitable.     "  A  generous  Prince !  a  most  noble  Lord, 

''who  thus  takes  upon  himself  the  task  of  rewarding  his 

faithful  followers ! " 

Such  were  the  words  which  burst  from  the  train,  ex- 
pectants all  of  them  of  similar  grants  at  the  expense 
of  King  Richard's  followers  and  favourites,  if  indeed  they 
had  not  as  yet  received  such.  Prior  Aymer  also  assented 
to  the  general  proposition,  observing,  however,  "That 
the  blessed  Jerusalem  could  not  indeed  be  termed  a  for- 
eign country.  She  was  communis  Muter  —  the  mother  of 
alL Christians.  But  he  saw  not,"  he  declared,  "how  the 
Knight  of  Ivanhoe  could  plead  any  advantage  from  this, 
since  he  "  (the  Prior)  "  was  assured  that  the  crusaders 
under  Richard  had  never  proceeded  much  farther  than 
Askalon,  which,  as  all  the  world  knew,  was  a  town  of  the 
Philistines,  and  entitled  to  none  of  the  privileges  of  the 
Holy  City." 

Waldemar,  whose  curiosity  had  led  him  towards  the 
place  where  Ivanhoe  had  fallen  to  the  ground,  now  re- 
turned. "  The  gallant,"  said  he,  "  is  likely  to  give  your 
Highness  little  disturbance,  and  to  leave  Front-de-Boeuf  in 
the  quiet  possession  of  his  gains;  he  is  severely  wounded." 

"  Whatever  becomes  of  him,"  said  Prince  John,  "  he  is 
Victor  of  the  day ;  and  were  he  tenfold  our  enemy,  or  the 
devoted  friend  of  our  brother,  which  is  perhaps  the  same, 
his  wounds  must  be  looked  to  —  our  own  physician  shall 
attend  him." 

A  stern  smile  curled  the  Prince's  lip  as  he  spoke. 
Waldemar  Fitzurse  hastened  to  reply  that  Ivanhoe  was 
*  already  removed  from  the  lists,  and  in  the  custody  of  his 
friends. 


IVANHOE.  137 

"  I  was  somewhat  afflicted,"  he  said,  "  to  see  the  grief 
of  the  Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty,  whose  sovereignty  of 
a  day  this  event  has  changed  into  mourning.  I  am  not  a 
man  to  be  moved  by  a  woman's  lament  for  her  lover,  but 
this  same  Lady  Rowena  suppressed  her  sorrow  with  such 
dignity  of  manner  that  it  could  only  be  discovered  by  her 
folded  hands  and  her  tearless  eye,  which  trembled  as  it 
remained  fixed  on  the  lifeless  form  before  her." 

"Who  is  this  Lady  Rowena,"  said  Prince  John,  "of 
whom  we  have  heard  so  much  ?  " 

"A  Saxon  heiress  of  large  possessions,"  replied  the 
Prior  Aymer ;  "  a  rose  of  loveliness,  and  a  jewel  of  wealth ; 
the  fairest  amon^^rTnousand7abunHIe"of~myrrh,  and  a 
cluster  of  camphire." 

"  We  shall  cheer  her  sorrows,"  said  Prince  John,  "  and 
amend  her  blood,  by  wedding  her  to  a  Norman.  She 
seems  a  minor,  and  must  therefore  be  at  our  royal  disposal 
in  marriage.  —  How  sayst  thou,  De  Bracy  ?  What 
thinkst  thou  of  gaining  fair  lands  and  livings,  by  wed- 
ding a  Saxon,  after  the  fashion  of  the  followers  of  the 
Conqueror  ?  " 

"  If  the  lands  are  to  my  liking,  my  lord,"  answered  De 
Bracy,  "  it  will  be  hard  to  displease  me  with  a  bride ;  and 
deeply  will  I  hold  myself  bound  to  your  Highness  for  a 
good  deed,  which  will  fulfil  all  promises  made  in  favour 
of  your  servant  and  vassal." 

"We  will  not  forget  it,"  said  Prince  John  ;  "and  that 
we  may  instantly  go  to  work,  command  our  seneschal 
*  presently  to  order  the  attendance  of  the  Lady  Rowena 
and  her  company  —  that  is,  the  rudejchurl  her  guardian, 
and  the  Saxon  ox  whom  the  Black  Knight  struck  down 
in  the  tournament  —  upon  this  evening's  banquet.  —  De 
Bigot,"  he  added  to  his  seneschal,  "  thou  wilt  word  this 
our  second  summons  so  courteously  as  to  gratify  the 
pride  of  these  Saxons,  and  make  it  impossible  for  them 
again  to  refuse ;  although,  by  the  bones  of  Becket,  cour- 
tesy to  them  is  casting  pearls  before  swine." 

Prince  John  had  proceeded  thus  far,  and  was  about  to 
give  the  signal  for  retiring  from  the  lists,  when  a  small 
billet  was  put  into  his  hand. 


138  IVANHOE. 

"  From  whence  ?  "  said  Prince  John,  looking  at  the 
person  by  whom  it  was  delivered. 

"  From  foreign  parts,  my  lord,  but  from  whence  I  know 
not,"  replied  his  attendant.  "  A  Frenchman  brought  it 
hither,  who  said  he  had  ridden  night  and  day  to  put  it 
into  the  hands  of  your  Highness." 

The  Prince  looked  narrowly  at  the  superscription,  and 
then  at  the  seal,  placed  so  as  to  secure  the  flox-silk:  with 
which  the  billet  was  surrounded,  and  which  bore  the 
impression  of  three  fleurs-de-lis,.  John  then  opened  the 
billet  with  apparent  agitation,  which  visibly  and  greatly 
increased  when  he  had  perused  the  contents,  which  were 
expressed  in  these  words  : 

"  TVtrfiJifyrl  to  yonrspjf,  fnr  t.hft  Dftvil  is  nnrVha.inp.ri  j_^ 

The  Prince  turned  as  pale  as  death,  looked  first  on  the 
earth,  and  then  up  to  heaven,  like  a  man  who  has  received 
news  that  sentence  of  execution  has  been  passed  upon 
him.  Recovering  from  the  first  effects  of  his  surprise, 
he  took  Waldemar  Fitzurse  and  De  Bracy  aside,  and  put 
the  billet  into  their  hands  successively.     '•'  It  means,"  he 

added,  in  a  faltering  voice,  "  that  my  brother  Richard  has 

obtained  his  freedom." 

"  This  may  be  a  false  alarm  or  a  forged  letter,"  said 
De  Bracy. 

"  It  is  France's  own  hand  and  seal,"  replied  Prince  John. 

"  It  is  time,  then,"  said  Fitzurse,  "  to  draw  our  party 
to  a  head,  either  at  York  or  some  other  centrical  place. 
A  few  days  later,  and  it  will  be  indeed  too  late.     Your ' 
Highness  must  break  short  this  present  mummery." 

"  The  yeomen  and  commons,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  must 
not  be  dismissed  discontented,  for  lack  of  their  share  in 
the  sports." 

"  The  day,"  said  Waldemar,  "  is  not  yet  very  far  spent 
—  let  the  archers  shoot  a  few  rounds  at  the  target,  and 
the  prize  be  adjudged.  This  will  be  an  abundant  fulfil- 
ment of  the  Prince's  promises,  so  far  as  this  herd  of 
Saxon  serfs  is  concerned." 

"  I  thank  thee,  Waldemar,"  said  the  Prince  ;  "  thou 
remindest  me,  too,  that  I  have  a  debt  to  pay  to  that  inso 


h  h 


IVANHOE.  139 

lent  peasant  who  yesterday  insulted  our  person.  Our 
banquet  also  shall  go  forward  to-night  as  we  proposed. 
Were  this  my  last  hour  of  power,  it  should  be  an  hour 
sacred  to  revenge  and  to  pleasure  —  let  new  cares  come 
with  to-morrow's  new  day." 

The  sound  of  the  trumpets  soon  recalled  those  specta- 
tors who  had  already  begun  to  leave  the  field ;  and  proc- 
lamation was  made  that  Prince  John,  suddenly  called  by 
high  and  peremptory  public  duties,  held  himself  obliged 
to  discontinue  the  entertainments  of  to-morrow's  festival ; 
nevertheless,  that,  unwilling  so  many  good  yeomen  should 
depart  without  a  trial  of  skill,  he  was  pleased  to  appoint 
them,  before  leaving  the  ground,  presently  to  execute  the 
competition  of  archery  intended  for  the  morrow.  To  the 
best  archer  a  prize  was  to  be  awarded,  being  a  bugle- 
horn,  mounted  with  silver,  and  a  silken  baldric  richly 
ornamented  with  a  medallion  of  St.  Hubert,  the  patron 
of  silvan  -  sport. 

More  than  thirty  yeomen  at  first  presented  themselves 
as  competitors,  several  of  whom  were  rangers  and  under- 
keepers  in  the  royal  forests  of  Needwood  and  Charn- 
wood.  When,  however,  the  archers  understood  with 
whom  they  were  to  be  matched,  upwards  of  twenty  with- 
drew themselves  from  the  contest,  unwilling  to  encounter 
the  dishonour  of  almost  certain  defeat.  For  in  those 
days  the  skill  of  each  celebrated  marksman  was  as  well 
known  for  many  miles  round  him  as  the  qualities  of  a 
horse  trained  at  Newmarket  are  familiar  to  those  who 
frequent  that  well-known  meeting.  jj^J 

The  diminished  list  of  competitors  for  silvan  fame  still 
amounted  to  eight.  Prince  John  steppecTirom  his  royal  , 
seat  to  view  more  nearly  the  persons  of  these  chosen 
yeomen,  several  of  whom  wore  the  royal  livery.  Having 
satisfied  his  curiosity  by  this  investigation,  he  looked  for 
the  object  of  his  resentment,  whom  he  observed  stand- 
ing on  the  same  spot,  and  with  the  same  composed  coun- 
tenance which  he  had  exhibited  upon  the  preceding 
day. 

.  "  Fellow,"  said  Prince  John,  "  I  guessed  by  thy  inso- 
lent babble  thou  wert  no  true  lover  of  the  long-bow,  and 


4. 


W 


140  IVANHOE. 

I  see  thou  darest  not  adventure  thy  skill  among  such 
merry  men  as  stand  yonder." 

"  Under  favour,  sir,"  replied  the  yeoman,  "  I  have 
another  reason  for  refraining  to  shoot,  beside  the  fearing 
discomfiture  and  disgrace." 

"  And  what  is  thy  other  reason  ?  "  said  Prince  John, 
who,  for  some  cause  which  perhaps  he  could  not  himself 
have  explained,  felt  a  painful  curiosity  respecting  this 
individual. 

I1  Because,")  replied   the   woodsman,  "  I   know   not  if 
these  yeomen  and  I  are  used  to  shoot  at  the  same  marks ; 
and  because,  moreover,  I  know  not  how  your  Grace  might 
relish  the  winning  of  a  third  prize  by  one  who  has  un-_ 
wittingly  fallen  under  your  displeasure.'/ 

Prince  John  coloured  as  he  put  the  question,  "What 
is  thy  name,  yeoman  ?)' 

"  Locksley,"  answered  the  yeoman. 

"  Then,  Locksley,"  said  Prince  John,  "  thou  shalt 
shoot  in  thy  turn,  when  these  yeomen  have  displayed 
their  skill.  If  thou  carriest  the  prize,  I  will  add  to  it 
twenty  nobles ;  but  if  thou  losest  it,  thou  shalt  be  stript 
of  thy  Lincoln  green  and  scourged  out  of  the  lists  with 
bowstrings,  for  a  wordy  and  insolent  jM&ggart:J[ri^ 

"  And  how  if  I  refuse  to  shoot  on  such  a  wager  ?  " 
said  the  yeoman.  "  Your  Grace's  power,  supported,  as  it 
is,  by  so  many  men-at-arms,  may  indeed  easily  strip  and 
scourge  me,  but  cannot -compel  me  to  bend  or  to  draw 
my  bow." 

"If  thou  refusest  my  fair  proffer,"  said  the  Prince, 
"  the  Provost  of  the  lists  shall  cut  thy  bowstring,  break 
thy  bow  and  arrows,  and  expel  thee  from  the  presence 
as  a  faint-hearted  craven." 

"  This  is  no  fair  chance  you  put  on  me,  proud  Prince," 
said  the  yeoman,  "  to  compel  me  to  peril  myself  against 
the  best  archers  of  Leicester  and  Staffordshire,  under 
the  penalty  of  infamy  if  they  should  overshoot  me. 
Nevertheless,  I  will  obey  your  pleasure." 
.  /'Look  to  him  close,  men-at-arms,"  said  Prince  John, 
"his  heart  is  sinking;  I  am  jealous  lest  he  attempt 
to  escaoe  the  trial — And  do  you,  good  fellows,  shoot 


IVANHOE.      „     f^  141 

boldly  round ;  a  buck  and  a  butt  of  wine  are  ready  for 
your  refreshment  in  yonder  tent,  when  the  prize  is 
won." 

A  target  was  placed  at  the  upper  end  of  the  southern 
avenue  which  led  to  the  lists.  The  contending  archers 
took  their  station  in  turn,  at  the  bottom  of  the  southern 
access  ;  the  distance  between  that  station  and  the  mark 
allowing  full  distance  for  what  was  called  a  shot  at 
rovers.  The  archers  having  previously  determined  by 
lot  their  order  of  precedence,  were  to  shoot  each  three 
^shafts  in  succession.  The  sports  were  regulated  by  an 
officer  of  inferior  rank,  termed  the  Provost  of  the  games ; 
for  the  high  rank  of  the  marshals  of  the  lists  would  have 
been  held  degraded  had  they  condescended  to  superin- 
tend the  sports  of  the  yeomanry. 

One  by  one  the  archers,  stepping  forward,  delivered 
their  shafts  yeomanlike  and  bravely.  Of  twenty-four 
arrows  shot  in  succession,  ten  were  fixed  in  the  target, 
and  the  others  ranged  so  near  it  that,  considering  the 
distance  of  the  mark,  it  was  accounted  good  archery. 
Of  the  ten  shafts  which  hit  the  target,  two  within  the 
inner  ring  were  shot  by  Hubert,  a  forester  in  the  service 
of  Malvoisin,  who  was  accordingly  pronounced  victorious. 

"Now,  Locksley,"  said  Prince  John  to  the  bold  yeo- 
man, with  a  bitter  smile,  "  wilt  thou  try  conclusions  with 
Hubert,  or  wilt  thou  yield  up  bow,  baldric,  and  quiver  to 
the  Provost  of  the  sports  ?  " 

"  Sith  it  be  no  better,"  said  Locksley,  "  I  am  content 
to  try  my  fortune ;  on  condition  that  when  I  have  shot 
two  shafts  at  yonder  mark  of  Hubert's,  he  shall  be  bound 
to  shoot  one  at  that  which  I  shall  propose." 

v  That  is  but  fair,"  answered  Prince  John,  "  and  it 
shall  not  be  refused  thee.  —  If  thou  dost  beat  this  brag- 
gart, Hubert,  I  will  fill  the  bugle  with  silver  pennies  for 
thee." 

r  A  man  can  but  do  his  best,"  answered  Hubert ;  "  but 
my  grandsire  drew  a  good  long-bow  at  Hastings,  and  I 
trust  not  to  dishonour  his  memory." 

The  former  target  was  now  removed,  and  a  fresh  one 
of  the  same  size  placed  in  its  room.     Hubert,  who,  as 


142  IVANHOE. 

victor  in  the  first  trial  of  skill,  had  the  right  to  shoot 
first,  took  his  aim  with  great  deliberation,  long  measur- 
ing the  distance  with  his  eye,  while  he  held  in  his  hand 
his  bended  bow,  with  the  arrow  placed  on  the  string. 
At  length  he  made  a  step  forward,  and  raising  the  bow  at 
the  full  stretch  of  his  left  arm,  till  the  centre  or  grasp- 
ing-place was  nigh  level  with  his  face,  he  drew  his  bow- 
string to  his  ear.  The  arrow  whistled  through  the  air, 
and  lighted  within  the  inner  ring  of  the  target,  but  not 
exactly  in  the  centre. 

"  You  have  not  allowed  for  the  wind,  Hubert,"  said 
his  antagonist,  bending  his  bow,  "or  that  had  been  a 
better  shot." 

So  saying,  and  without  showing  the  least  anxiety  to 
pause  upon  his  aim,  Locksley  stept  to  the  appointed 
station,  and  shot  his  arrow  as  carelessly  in  appearance 
as  if  he  had  not  even  looked  at  the  mark.  He  was 
speaking  almost  at  the  instant  that  the  shaft  left  the 
bowstring,  yet  it  alighted  in  the  target  two  inches  nearer 
to  the  white  spot  which  marked  the  centre  than  that  of 
Hubert. 

"  By  the  light  of  Heaven ! "  said  Prince  John  to 
Hubert,  "an  thou  suffer  that  runagate  knave  to  over- 
come thee,  thou  art  worthy  of  the  gallows ! " 

Hubert  had  but  one  set  speech  for  all  occasions.  "  An 
your  Highness  were  to  hang  me,"  he  said,  "  a  man  can 
but  do  his  best.  Nevertheless,  my  grandsire  drew  a 
good  bow " 

\  The  foul  fiend  on  thy  grandsire  and  all  his  genera- 
tion !  "  interrupted  John,  r  Shoot,  knave,  and  shoot  thy 
best,  or  it  shall  be  the  worse  for  thee ! " 

Thus  exhorted,  Hubert  resumed  his  place,  and  not 
neglecting  the  caution  which  he  had  received  from  his 
adversary,  he  made  the  necessary  allowance  for  a  very 
light  air  of  wind  which  had  just  arisen,  and  shot  so  suc- 
cessfully that  his  arrow  alighted  in  the  very  centre  of 
the  target. 

'\  A  Hubert !  a  Hubert ! "  shouted  the  populace,  more 
interested  in  a  known  person  than  in  a  stranger.  "  In 
the  clout !  —  in  the  clout !  —  a  Hubert  forever  !  " 


IVANHOE.  143 


"  Thou  canst  not  mend  that  shot,  Locksley,"  said  the 
Prince,  with  an  insulting  smile. 

"  I  will  notch  his  shaft  for  him,  however,"  replied 
Locksley. 

And  letting  fly  his  arrow  with  a  little  more  precaution 
than  before,  it  lighted  right  upon  that  of  his  competitor, 
which  it  split  to  shivers.  The  people  who  stood  around 
were  so  astonished  at  his  wonderful  dexterity  that  they 
could  not  even  give  vent  to  their  surprise  in  their  usual 
clamour,  r  This  must  be  the  devil,  and  no  man  of  flesh 
and  blood,"  whispered  the  yeomen  to  each  other ;  "  such 
archery  was  never  seen  since  a  bow  was  first  bent  in 
Britain." 

"  And  now,"  said  Locksley,  "  I  will  crave  your  Grace's 
permission  to  plant  such  a  mark  as  is  used  in  the  North 
Country;  and  welcome  every  brave  yeoman  who  shall  try  a 
shot  at  it  to  win  a  smile  from  the  bonny  lass  he  loves  best." 

He  then  turned  to  leave  the  lists.  "  Let  your  guards 
attend  me,"  he  said,  "  if  you  please ;  I  go  but  to  cut  a 
rod  from  the  next  willow-bush.)' 

Prince  John  made  a  signal  that  some  attendants  should 
follow  him  in  case  of  his  escape ;  but  the  cry  of  "  Shame ! 
shame ! "  which  burst  from  the  multitude  induced  him 
to  alter  his  ungenerous  purpose. 

Locksley  returned  almost  instantly  with  a  willow 
wand  about  six  feet  in  length,  perfectly  straight,  and 
rather  thicker  than  a  man's  thumb.  He  began  to  peel 
this  with  great  composure,  observing  at  the  same  time  * 
that  to  ask  a  good  woodsman  to  shoot  at  a  target  so 
broad  as  had  hitherto  been  used  was  to  put  shame  upon 
his  skill.  "  For  his  own  part,"  he  said,  "  and  in  the  land 
where  he  was  bred,  men  would  as  soon  take  for  their 
mark  King  Arthur's  round  table,  which  held  sixty  knights 
around  it.  A  child  of  seven  years  old,"  he  said,  "  might 
hit  yonder  target  with  a  headless  shaft ;  but,"  added  he, 
walking  deliberately  to  the  other  end  of  the  lists,  and 
sticking  the  willow  wand  upright  in  the  ground,  "he 
that  hits  that  rod  at  fivescore  yards,  I  call  him  an  archer 
fit  to  bear  both  bow  and  quiver  before  a  king,  an  it  were 
the  stout  Kin 2f  Richard  himself." 


144  IVANHOE. 

"  My  grandsire,"  said  Hubert,  "  drew  a  good  bow  at 
the  battle  of  Hastings,  and  never  shot  at  such  a  mark  in 
his  life  —  and  neither  will  I.  If  this  young  yeoman  can 
cleave  that  rod,  I  give  him  the  bucklers  —  or  rather,  I 
yield  to  the  devil  that  is  in  his  jerkin,  and  not  to  any 
human  skill ;  a  man  can  but  do  his  best,  and  I  will  not 
shoot  where  I  am  sure  to  miss.  I  might  as  well  shoot  at 
the  edge  of  our  parson's  whittle,  or  at  a  wheat  straw,  or 
at  a  sunbeam,  as  at  a  twinkling  white  streak  which  I  can 
hardly  see." 

"  Cowardly  dog !  "  said  Prince  John.  "  Sirrah  Locks- 
ley,  do  thou  shoot;  but  if  thou  hittest  such  a  mark,  I 
will  say  thou  art  the  first  man  ever  did  so.  Howe'er  it 
be,  thou  shalt  not  crow  over  us  with  a  mere  show  of 
superior  skill." 

"  I  will  do  my  best,  as  Hubert  says,"  answered  Locks- 
ley  ;  "  no  man  can  do  more." 

So  saying,  he  again  bent  his  bow,  but  on  the  present 
occasion  looked  with  attention  to  his  weapon,  and  changed 
the  string,  which  he  thought  was  no  longer  truly  round, 
having  been  a  little  frayed  by  the  two  former  shots.  He 
then  took  his  aim  with  some  deliberation,  and  the  multi- 
tude awaited  the  event  in  breathless  silence.  The  archer 
vindicated  their  opinion  of  his  skill;  his  arrow  split  the 
willow  rod  against  which  it  was  aimed.  A  jubilee  of, 
acclamations  followed  ;  and  even  Prince  John,  in  admira- 
tion of  Locksley's  skill,,  lost  for  an  instant  his  dislike  to 
his  person.  "These  twenty  nobles,"  he  said,  "which, 
with  the  bugle,  thou  hast  fairly  won,  are  thine  own ;  we 
will  make  them  fifty  if  thou  wilt  take  livery  and  service 
with  us  as  a  yeoman  of  our  body-guard,  and  be  near  to 
our  person.  For  never  did  so  strong  a  hand  bend  a  bow 
or  so  true  an  eye  direct  a  shaft." 

"Pardon  me,  noble  Prince,"  said  Locksley;  "but  I 
have  vowed  that,  if  ever  I  take  service,  it  should  be  with 
your  royal  brother  King  Richard.  These  twenty  nobles 
I  leave  to  Hubert,  who  has  this  day  drawn  as  brave  a 
bow  as  his  grandsire  did  at  Hastings.  Had  his  modesty 
not  refused  the  trial,  he  would  have  hit  the  wand  as  well 
as  I." 


IVANHOE.  145 

Hubert  shook  his  head  as  he  received  with  reluctance 
the  bounty  of  the  stranger;  and  Locksley,  anxious  to 
escape  further  observation,  mixed  with  the  crowd,  and 
was  seen  no  more. 

The  victorious  archer  would  not  perhaps  have  escaped 
John's  attention  so  easily,  had  not  that  Prince  had  other 
subjects  of  anxious  and  more  important  meditation  press- 
ing upon  his  mind  at  that  instant.  He  called  upon  his 
chamberlain  as  he  gave  the  signal  for  retiring  from  the 
lists,  and  commanded  him  instantly  to  gallop  to  Ashby 
and  seek  out  Isaac  the  Jew.  "Tell  the  dog,"  he  said, 
"  to  send  me,  before  sundown,  two  thousand  crowns.  He 
knows  the  security ;  but  thou  mayst  show  him  this,  ring 
for  a  token.  The  rest  of  the  money  must  be  paiid  at 
York  within  six  days.  If  he  neglects,  I  will  have  the  \ 
unbelieving  villain's  head.  Look  that  thou  pass  him  not 
on  the  way ;  for  the  circumcised  slave  was  displaying  his 
stolen  finery  amongst  us." 

So  saying,  the  Prince  resumed  his  horse,  and  re- 
turned to  Ashby,  the  whole  crowd  breaking  up  and  dis- 
persing upon  his  retreat. 


lis 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


V* 


In  rough  magnificence  array'd, 
When  ancient  Chivalry  display'd 
The  pomp  of  her  heroic  games, 
And  crested  chiefs  and  tissued  dames 
Assembled,  at  the  clarion's  call,     /><■' 
In  some  proud  castle's  high  arch'd  hall. 

Warton 


Prince  John  held  his  high  festival  in  the  Castle  of 
Ashby.  This  was  not  the  same  building  of  which  the 
stately  ruins  still  interest  the  traveller,  and  which  was 
erected  at  a  later  period  by  the  Lord  Hastings,  High 
Chamberlain  of  England,  one  of  the  first  victims  of  the 
tyranny  of  Richard  the  Third,  and  yet  better  known  as 
one  of  Shakespeare's  characters  than  by  his  historical 
fame.     The  castle  and  town  of  Ashby,  at  this  time,  be- 


146  IVANHOE. 

longed  to  Roger  de  Quincy,  Earl  of  Winchester,  who, 
during  the  period  of  our  history,  was  absent  in  the  Holy 
Land,  Prince  John,  in  the  meanwhile,  occupied  his 
castle,  and  disposed  of  his  domains  without  gcruple  ;  and 
,  peeking  at  present  to  dazzle  men's  eyes  by  his  hospitality 
and  magnificence,  had  given  orders  for  great  preparations, 
in  order  to  render  the  banquet  as  splendid  as  possible. 

The  purveyors  of  the  Prince,  who  exercised  on  this 
and  other  occasions  the  full  authority  of  royalty,  had 
swept  the  country  of  all  that  could  be  collected  which 
was  esteemed  fit  for  their  master's  table.  Guests  also 
were  invited  in  great  numbers ;  and  in  the  necessity 
in  which  he  then  found  himself  of  courting  popularity, 
Prince  John  had  extended  his  invitation  to  a  few  distin- 
guished Saxon  and  Danish  families,  as  well  as  to  the 
Norman  nobility  and  gentry  of  the  neighbourhood.  How- 
ever despised  and  degraded  on  ordinary  occasions,  the 
great  numbers  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  must  necessarily 
render  them  formidable*  in  the  civil  commotions  which; 
seemed  approaching,  and  it  was  an  obvious  point  of  policy 
to  secure  popularity  with  their  leaders. 

It  was  accordingly  the  Prince's  intention,  which  he  for 
some  time  maintained,  to  treat  these  unwonted  guests 
with  a  courtesy  to  which  they  had  been  little  accustomed. 
But  although  no  man  with  less  scruple  made  his  ordinary 
habits  and  feelings  blend  to  his  interest,  it  was  the  mis- 
fortune of  this  Prince  that  his  levity  and  petulance  werel" 
perpetually  breaking  out,  and  undoing  all  that  had  been, 
gained  by  his  previous  dissimulation. 

Of  this  fickle  temper  he  gave  a  memorable  example  in 
Ireland,  when  sent  thither  by  his  father,  Henry  the  Sec- 
ond, with  the  purpose  of  buying  golden  opinions  of  the 
inhabitants  of  that  new  and  important  acquisition  to  the 
English  crown.  Upon  this  occasion  the  Irish  chieftains 
contended  which  should  first  offer  to  the  young  Prince 
their  loyal  homage  and  the  kiss  of  peace.  But,  instead 
of  receiving  their  salutations  with  courtesy,  John  and  his 
petulant  attendants  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of 
pulling  the  long  beards  of  the  Irish  chieftains  —  a  con- 
duct which,  as  might  have  been  expected,  was  highly 


IVANHOE.  147 

. 
resented  by  these  insulted  dignitaries,  and  produced  fatal 
consequences  to  the  English  domination  in  Ireland.     It 
is  necessary  to  keep  these  inconsistencies  of  John's  char- " 
acter  in  view,  that  the  reader  may  understand  his  con- 
duct during  the  present  evening. 

In  execution  of  the  resolution  which  he  had  formed 
during  his  cooler  moments,  Prince  John  received  Cedric 
and  Athelstane  with  distinguished  courtesy,  and  ex- 
pressed his  disappointment,  without  resentment,  when 
the  indisposition  of  Rowena  was  alleged  by  the  former 
as  a  reason  for  her  not  attending  upon  his  gracious  sum- 
mons. Cedric  and  Athelstane  were  both  dressed  in  the 
ancient  Saxon  garb,  which,  although  not  unhandsome  in 
itself,  and  in  the  present  instance  composed  of  costly 
materials,  was  so  remote  in  shape  and  appearance  from 
that  of  the  other  guests  that  Prince  John  took  great 
credit  to  himself  with  Waldemar  Fitzurse  for  refraining 
from  laughter  at  a  sight  which  the  fashion  of  the  day 
rendered  ridiculous.  Yet,  in  the  eye  of  sober  judgment, 
the  short  close  tunic  and  long  mantle  of  the  Saxons  was 
a  more  graceful,  as  well  as  a  more  convenient,  dress  than 
the  garb  of  the  Normans,  whose  under-garment  was  a 
long  doublet,  so  loose  as  to  resemble  a  shirt  or  a  wag- 
goner's frock,  covered  by  a  cloak  of  scanty  dimensions, 
neither  fit  to  defend  the  wearer  from  cold  or  from  rain, 
and  the  only  purpose  of  which  appeared  to  be  to  display 
as  much  fur,  embroidery,  and  jewellery  work  as  the  in-^ 
genuity  of  the  tailor  could  contrive  to  lay  upon  it.  The' 
Emperor  Charlemagne,  in  whose  reign  they  were  first 
introduced,  seems  to  have  been  very  sensible  of  the  in- 
conveniences arising  from  the  fashion  of  this  garment. 
"In  Heaven's  name,"  said  he,  "to  what  purpose  serve 
these  abridged  cloaks  ?  If  we  are  in  bed  they  are  no 
cover,  on  horseback  they  are  no  protection  from  the  wind 
and  rain,  and  when  seated  they  do  not  guard  our  Jegs 
from  the  damp  or  the  frost." 

Nevertheless,  spite  of  this  imperial  objurgation,  the 
short  cloaks  continued  in  fashion  down  "to  the  time  of 
which  we  treat,  and  particularly  among  the  princes  of  the 
House  of  Anjou     They  were  therefore  in  universal  use 


u 


148  IVANHOE. 

among  Prince  John's  courtiers ;  and  the  long  mantle, 
which  formed  the  upper  garment  of  the  Saxons,  was  held 
in  proportional  derision.      /     jTL. 

The  guests  were  seated  at  a  table  which  groaned  under 
the  quantity  of  good  cheer.  The  numerous  cooks  who 
attended  on  the  Prince's  progress,  having  exerted  all 
their  art  in  varying  the  forms  in  which  the  ordinary  pro- 
visions were  served  up,  had  succeeded  almost  as  well  as 
the  modern  professors  of  the  culinary  art  in  rendering 
them  perfectly  unlike  their  natural  appearance.  Besides 
these  dishes  of  domestic  origin,  there  were  various  deli- 
cacies brought  from  foreign  parts,  and  a  quantity  of  rich 
pastry,  as  well  as  of  the  simnel  bread  and  wastel  cakes, 
which  were  only  used  at  the  tables  of  the  highest  nobility. 
The  banquet  was  crowned  with  the  richest  wines,  both 
foreign  and  domestic. 

But,  though  luxurious,  the  Norman  nobles  were  not, 
generally  speaking,  an  intemperate  race.  While  indulg- 
ing themselves  in  the  pleasures  of  the  table,  they  aimed 
at  delicacy,  but  avoided  excess,  and  were  apt  to  attribute 
gluttony  and  drunkenness  to  the  vanquished  Saxons,  as 
vices  peculiar  to  their  inferior  station.  Prince  John, 
indeed,  and  those  who  courted  his  pleasure  by  imitating 
his  foibles,  were  apt  to  indulge  to  excess  in  the  pleasures 
of  the  trencher  and  the  goblet ;  and,  indeed,  it  is  well 
known  that  his  death  was  occasioned  by  a  surfeit  upon 
peaches  and  new  ale.  His  conduct,  however,  was  an  ex- 
ception to  the  general  manners  of  his  countrymen. 

With  sly  gravity,  interrupted  only  by  private  signs  to 
each  other,  the  Norman  knights  and  nobles  beheld  the 
ruder  demeanour  of  Athelstane  and  Cedric  at  a  banquet 
to  the  form  and  fashion  of  which  they  were  unaccustomed. 
And  while  their  manners  were  thus  the  subject  of  sar- 
castic observation,  the  untaught  Saxons  unwittingly  trans- 
gressed several  of  the  arbitrary  rules  established  for  the 
regulation  of  society.  Now,  it  is  well  known  that  a  man 
may  with  more  impunity  be  guilty  of  an  actual  breach 
either  of  real  good  breeding  or  of  good  morals,  than  ap- 
pear ignorant  of  the  most  minute  point  of  fashionable 
etiquette.      Thus  Cedric,  who  dried   his  hands  with  a 


IVANHOE.  149 

towel,  instead  of  suffering  the  moisture  to  exhale  by  wav- 
ing them  gracefully  in  the  air,  incurred  more  ridicule 
than  his  companion  Athelstane,  when  he  swallowed  to 
his  own  single  share  the  whole  of  a  large  pasty  composed 
of  the  most  exquisite  foreign  delicacies,  and  termed  at 
that  time  a  "  karuin-pie."  When,  however,  it  was  dis- 
covered, by  a  serious  cross-examination,  that  the  Thane 
of  Coningsburgh  —  or  Franklin,  as  the  Normans  termed 
him  —  had  no  idea  what  he  had  been  devouring,  and  that 
he  had  taken  the  contents  of  the  karum-pie  for  larks  and 
pigeons,  whereas  they  were  in  fact  beccaficoes  and  night- 
ingales, his  ignorance  brought  him  in  for  an  ample  share 
of  the  ridicule  which  would  have  been  more  justly  be- 
stowed on  his  jgluttony. 

The  long  feast  had  at  length  its  end ;  and,  while  the  gob- 
let circulated  freely,  men  talked  of  the  feats  of  the  precede 
ing  tournament  —  of  the  unknown  victor  in  the  archery 
games,  of  the  Black  Knight,  whose  self-denial  had  in- 
duced him  to  withdraw  from  the  honours  he  had  won, 
and  of  the  gallant  Ivanhoe,  who  had  so  dearly  bought  the 
lonours  of  the  day.  "The  topics  were  treated  with  mili- 
ary frankness,  and  the  jest  and  laugh  went  round  the 
hall.  The  brow  of  Prince  John  alone  was  overclouded 
during  these  discussions  ;  some  overpowering  care  seemed 
agitating  his  mind,  and  it  was  only  when  he  received  occa- 
sional hints  from  his  attendants  that  he  seemed  to  take 
interest  in  what  was  passing  around  him.  On  such  occa- 
sions he  would  start  up,  quaff  a  cup  of  wine  as  if  to 
raise  his  spirits,  and  then  mingle  in  the  conversation  by 
some  observation  made  abruptly  or  .at  random/*^ 

"  We  drink  this  beaker,"  said  he,  "  to  the  health  of 
Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe,  champion  of  this  Passage  of  Arms, 
and  grieve  that  his  wound  renders  him  absent  from  our 
board.  —  Let  all  fill  to  the  pledge,  and  especially  Cedric 
of  Rotherwood,  the  worthy  father  of  a  son  so  promising." 

"  No,  my  lord,"  replied  Cedric,  standing  up,  and  plac- 
ing on  the  table  his  untasted  cup,  "  I  yield  not  the  name 
of  son  to  the  disobedient  youth  who  at  once  despises  my 
commands  and  relinquishes  the  manners  and  customs 
of  his  fathers." 


150  IVANHOE. 

"  'Tis  impossible,"  cried  Prince  John,  with  well-feigned 
astonishment,  "  that  so  gallant  a  knight  should  be  an  un- 
worthy or  disobedient  son !  " 

"  Yet,  my  lord,"  answered  Cedric,  "  so  it  is  with  this 
Wilfred.  He  left  my  homely  dwelling  to  mingle  with 
the  gay  nobility  of  your  brother's  court,  where  he  learned 
to  do  those  tricks  of  horsemanship  which  you  prize  so 
highly.  He  left  it  contrary  to  my  wish  and  command ; 
and  in  the  days  of  Alfred  that  would  have  been  termed 
disobedience  —  ay,  and  a  crime  severely  punishable." 

"  Alas ! "  replied  Prince  John,  with  a  deep  sigh  of 
affected  sympathy,  "  since  your  son  was  a  follower  of  my 
unhappy  brother,  it  need  not  be  inquired  where  or  from 
whom  he  learned  the  lesson  of  filial  disobedience." 

Thus  spake  Prince  John,  wilfully  forgetting  that,  of 
all  the  sons  of  Henry  the  Second,  though  no  one  was  free 
from  the  charge,  he  himself  had  been  most  distinguished 
for  rebellion  and  ingratitude  to  his  father. 

"  I  think,"  said  he,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  that  my 
brother  proposed  to  confer  upon  his  favourite  the  rich 
manor  of  Ivanhoe." 

"  He  did  endow  him  with  it,"  answered  Cedric ;  "  nor 
is  it  my  least  quarrel  with  my  son  that  he  stooped  to  a 
hold,  as  a  feudal  vassal,  the  very  domains  which  his 
fathers  possessed  in  free  and  independent  right." 

"  We  shall  then  have  your  willing  sanction,  good 
Cedric,"  said  Prince  John,' "  to  confer  this  fief  upon  a  per- 
son whose  dignity  will  not  be  diminished  by  holding  land 
of  the  British  crown.  —  Sir  Reginald  Front-de-Bceuf,"  he 
said,  turning  towards  that  baron,  u  I  trust  you  will  so 
keep  the  goodly  barony  of  Ivanhoe  that  Sir  Wilfred  shall 
not  incur  his  father's  farther  displeasure  by  again  enter- 
ing upon  that  fief." 

"  By  St.  Anthony  !  "  answered  the  black-browed  giant, 
"I  will  consent  that  your  Highness  shall  hold  me  a 
Saxon,  if  either  Cedric  or  Wilfred,  or  the  best  that  ever 
bore  English  blood,  shall  wrench  from  me  the  gift  with 
which  your  Highness  has  graced  me." 

"  Whoever  shall  call  thee  Saxon,  Sir  Baron,"  replied 
Cedric,  offended  at  a  mode  of  expression  by  which  the 


IVANHOE.  151 

Normans  frequently  expressed  their  habitual  contempt  of 
the  English,  "will  do  thee  an  honour  as  great  as  it  is 
undeserved."' 

Front-de-Bceuf  would  have  replied,  but  Prince  John's 
netulance  and  levity  got  the  start. 

"Assuredly,"  said  he,  "my  lords,  the  noble  Cedric 
speaks  truth  ;  and  his  race  may  claim  precedence  over 
us  as  much  in  the  length  of  their  pedigrees  as  in  the 
longitude  of  their  cloaks." 

"They  go  before  us  indeed  in  the  field  —  as  deer  before 
dogs,"  said  Malvoisin. 

"  And  with  good  right  may  they  go  before  us  —  forget 
not,"  said  the  Prior  Aymer,  "the  superior  decency  and 
decorum  of  their  manners." 

"  Their  singular  abstemiousness  and  temperance,"  said 
De  Bracy,  forgetting  the  plan  which  promised  him  a 
Saxon  bride. 

"  Together  with  the  courage  and  conduct,"  said  Brian 
de  Bois-Guilbert,  "by  which  they  distinguished  them- 
selves at  Hastings  and  elsewhere." 

While,  with  smooth  and  smiling  cheek,  the  courtiers, 
each  in  turn,  followed  their  Prince's  example,  and  aimed 
a  shaft  of  ridicule  at  Cedric,  the  face  of  the  Saxon  be- 
came inflamed  with  passion,  and  he  glanced  his  eyes 
fiercely  from  one  to  another,  as  if  the  quick  succession  of 
so  many  injuries  had  prevented  his  replying  to  them  in 
turn  ;  or,  like  a  baited  bull,  who,  surrounded  by  his  tor- 
mentors, is  at  a  loss  to  choose  from  among  them  the  im- 
mediate object  of  his  revenge.  At  length  he  spoke,  in  a 
voice  half-choked  with  passion ;  and,  addressing  himself 
to  Prince  John  as  the  head  and  front  of  the  offence  which 
he  had  received,  "Whatever,"  he  said,  "have  been  the 
follies  and  vices  of  our  race,  a  Saxon  would  have  been 
held  nidering  (the  most  emphatic  term  for  abject  worth- 
lessness)  who  should  in  his  own  hall,  and  while  his  own 
wine-cup  passed,  have  treated,  or  suffered  to  be  treated, 
an  unoffending  guest  as  your  Highness  has  this  day  be- 
held me  used;  and  whatever  was  the  misfortune  of  our 
fathers  on  the  field  of  Hastings,  those  may  at  least  be 
silent  (here  he  looked  at  Front-de-Boeuf  and  the  Templar) 


152  IVANHOE. 

who  have  within  these  few  hours  once  and  again  lost 
saddle  and  stirrup  before  the  lance  of  a  Saxon." 

"  By  my  faith,  a  biting  jest ! "  said  Prince  John.  "  How 
like  you  it,  sirs  ?  —  Our  Saxon  subjects  rise  in  spirit  and 
courage,  become  shrewd  in  wit  and  bold  in  bearing,  in 
these  unsettled  times.  —  What  say  ye,  my  lords  ?  By 
this  good  light,  I  hold  it  best  to  take  our  galleys  and  re- 
turn to  Normandy  in  time." 

"  For  fear  of  the  Saxons  ?  "  said  De  Bracy,  laughing. 
"  We  should  need  no  weapon  but  our  hunting  spears  to 
bring  these  boars  to  bay." 

"  A  truce  with  your  raillery,  Sir  Knights,"  said  Fitz- 
urse ;  "  and  it  were  well,"  he  added,  addressing  the  Prince, 
"that  your  Highness  should  assure  the  worthy  Cedric 
there  is  no  insult  intended  him  by  jests  which  must  sound 
but  harshly  in  the  ear  of  a  stranger." 

"  Insult ! ':  answered  Prince  John,  resuming  his  cour- 
tesy of  demeanour ;  "  I  trust  it  will  not  be  thought  that 
I  could  mean  or  permit  any  to  be  offered  in  my  presence. 
Here  !  I  fill  my  cup  to  Cedric  himself,  since  he  refuses 
to  pledge  his  son's  health." 

The  cup  went  round  amid  the  well-dissembled  applause 
of  the  courtiers,  which,  however,  failed  to  make  the  im- 
pression on  the  mind  of  the  Saxon  that  had  been  designed. 
He  was  not  naturally  acute  of  perception,  but  those  too 
much  undervalued  his  understanding  who  deemed  that 
this  flattering  compliment  would  obliterate  the  sense  of 
the  prior  insult.  He  was  silent,  however,  when  the  royal 
pledge  again  passed  round,  "  To  Sir  Athelstane  of  Con- 
ingsburgh." 

The  knight  made  his  obeisance,  and  showed  his  sense 
of  the  honour  by  draining  a  huge  goblet  in  answer  to  it. 

"  And  now,  sirs,"  said  Prince  John,  who  began  to  be 
warmed  with  the  wine  which  he  had  drank,  "  having  done 
justice  to  our  Saxon  guests,  we  will  pray  of  them  some 
requital  to  our  courtesy.  Worthy  thane,"  he  continued, 
addressing  Cedric,  "may  we  pray  you  to  name  to  us  some 
Xorman  whose  mention  may  least  sully  your  mouth,  and 
to  wash  down  with  a  goblet  of  wine  all  bitterness  which 
the  sound  may  leave  behind  it  ?  " 


IVANHOE.  153 

Fitzurse  arose  while  Prince  John  spoke,  and,  gliding 
behind  the  seat  of  the  Saxon,  whispered  to  him  not  to 
omit  the  opportunity  of  putting  an  end  to  unkindness 
betwixt  the  two  races  by  naming  Prince  John.  The 
Saxon  replied  not  to  this  politic  insinuation,  but,  rising 
up,  and  filling  his  cup  tc  the  brim,  he  addressed  Prince 
John  in  these  words :  "  Your  Highness  has  required  that 
I  should  name  a  Norman  deserving  to  be  remembered  at 
our  banquet.  This,  perchance,  is  a  hard  task,  since  it 
calls  on  the  slave  to  sing  the  praises  of  the  master  — 
upon  the  vanquished,  while  pressed  by  all  the  evils  of 
conquest,  to  sing  the  praises  of  the  conqueror.  Yet  I  will 
name  a  Norman  —  the  first  in  arms  and  in  place  —  the 
best  and  the  noblest  of  his  race.  And  the  lips  that  shall 
refuse  to  pledge  me  to  his  well-earned  fame,  I  term  false 
and  dishonoured,  and  will  so  maintain  them  with  my 
life.  —  I  quaff  this  goblet  to  the  health  of  Richard  the 
Lion-hearted  ! " 

Prince  John,  who  had  expected  that  his  own  name 
would  have  closed  the  Saxon's  speech,  started  when  that 
of  his  injured  brother  was  so  unexpectedly  introduced. 
He  raised  mechanically  the  wine-cup  to  his  lips,  then 
instantly  set  it  down,  to  view  the  demeanour  of  the  com- 
pany at  this  unexpected  proposal,  which  many  of  them 
felt  it  as  unsafe  to  oppose  as  to  comply  with.  Some  of 
them,  ancient  and  experienced  courtiers,  closely  imitated 
the  example  of  the  Prince  himself,  raising  the  goblet  to 
their  lips,  and  again  replacing  it  before  them.  There 
were  many  who,  with  a  more  generous  feeling,  exclaimed, 
"  Long  live  King  Richard !  and  may  he  be  speedily  re- 
stored to  us  !  "  And  some  few,  among  whom  were  Pront- 
de-Bceuf  and  the  Templar,  in  sullen  disdain  suffered  their 
goblets  to  stand  untasted  before  them.  But  no  man  ven- 
tured directly  to  gainsay  a  pledge  filled  to  the  health  of 
the  reigning  monarch. 

Having  enjoyed  his  triumph  for  about  a  minute,  Cedric 
said  to  his  companion,  "  Up,  noble  Athelstane !  we  have 
remained  here  long  enough,  since  we  have  requited  the 
hospitable  courtesy  of  Prince  John's  banquet.  Those 
who  wish  to  know  further  of  our  rude  Saxon  manners 


154  IVANHOE. 

must  henceforth  seek  us  in  the  homes  of  our  fathers, 
since  we  have  seen  enough  of  royal  banquets  and  enough 
of  Norman  courtesy." 

So  saying,  he  arose  and  left  the  banqueting-room,  fol- 
lowed by  Athelstane,  and  by  several  other  guests,  who, 
partaking  of  the  Saxon  lineage,  held  themselves  insulted 
by  the  sarcasms  of  Prince  John  and  his  courtiers. 

"  By  the  bones  of  St.  Thomas,"  said  Prince  John,  as 
they  retreated,  "  the  Saxon  churls  have  borne  off  the 
best  of  the  day,  and  have  retreated  with  triumph !  " 

"Condamatium  est,  poculatum  est,"  said  Prior  Aymer ; 
"  we  have  drunk  and  we  have  shouted  —  it  were  time  we 
left  our  wine  flagons." 

"  The  monk  hath  some  fair  penitent  to  shrive  to-night, 
that  he  is  in  such  a  hurry  to  depart,"  said  De  Bracy. 

"  Not  so,  Sir  Knight,"  replied  the  Abbot ;  "  but  I  must 
move  several  miles  forward  this  evening  upon  my  home- 
ward journey." 

"  They  are  breaking  up,"  said  the  Prince  in  a  whisper 
to  Fitzurse ;  "  their  fears  anticipate  the  event,  and  this 
coward  Prior  is  the  first  to  shrink  from  me." 

"  Fear  not,  my  lord,"  said  Waldemar ;  "  I  will  show 
him  such  reasons  as  shall  induce  him  to  join  us  when  we 
hold  our  meeting  at  York.  —  Sir  Prior,"  he  said,  "I 
must  speak  with  you  in  private  before  you  mount  your 
palfrey." 

The  other  guests  were  now  fast  dispersing  with  the 
exception  of  those  immediately  attached  to  Prince  John's 
faction  and  his  retinue. 

"This,  then,  is  the  result  of  your  advice,"  said  the 
Prince,  turning  an  angry  countenance  upon  Fitzurse ; 
"that  I  should  be  bearded  at  my  own  board  by  a 
drunken  Saxon  churl,  and  that,  on  the  mere  sound  of 
my  brother's  name,  men  should  fall  off  from  me  as  if  I 
had  the  leprosy  ?  " 

"  Have  patience,  sir,"  replied  his  counsellor;  "I  might 
retort  your  accusation,  and  blame  the  inconsiderate 
levity  which  foiled  my  design,  and  misled  your  own 
better  judgment.  But  this  is  no  time  for  recrimination. 
De  Bracy  and  I  will  instantly  go  among  these  shuffling 


IVANHOE.  155 

cowards  and  convince  them  they  have  gone  too  far  to 
recede." 

"  It  will  be  in  vain,"  said  Prince  John,  pacing  the 
apartment  with  disordered  steps,  and  expressing  himself 
with  an  agitation  to  which  the  wine  he  had  drank  partly 
contributed  —  "  it  will  be  in  vain ;  they  have  seen  the 
handwriting  on  the  wall  —  they  have  marked  the  paw 
of  the  lion  in  the  sand  —  they  have  heard  his  approach- 
ing roar  shake  the  wood;  nothing  will  reanimate  their 
courage." 

"Would  to  God,"  said  Fitzurse  to  De  Bracy,  "that 
aught  could  reanimate  his  own !  His  brother's  very 
name  is  an  ague  to  him.  Unhappy  are  the  counsellors 
of  a  prince  who  wants  fortitude  and  perseverance  alike 
in  good  and  in  evil ! " 

CHAPTER  XV. 

And  yet  he  thinks  —  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha" —  he  thinks 
I  am  the  tool  and  servant  of  his  will. 
Well,  let  it  be  ;  through  all  the  maze  of  trouble 
His  plots  and  base  oppression  must  create, 
I'll  shape  myself  a  way  to  higher  things, 
And  who  will  say  'tis  wrong  ? 

Basil,  a  Tragedy. 

No  spider  ever  took  more  pains  to  repair  the  shattered 
meshes  of  his  web  than  did  Waldemar  Fitzurse  to  reunite 
jU-_  and  combine  the  scattered  members   of   Prince   John's 
cabal.     Few  of  these  were  attached  to  him  from  inclina- 
tion, and  none  from  personal  regard.     It  was  therefore 
necessary  that  Fitzurse  should  open  to  them  new  pros- 
pects of  advantage,  and  remind  them  of  those  which  they 
at  present  enjoyed.     To  the  young  and  wild  nobles  he 
held  out  the  prospect  of  unpunished  license  and  uncon- 
trolled revelry,  to  the  ambitious  that  of  power,  and  to 
.    the  covetous  that  of  increased  wealth  and  extended  do- 
mains.    The  leaders  of  the  mercenaries  received  a  dona- 
tion in  gold  —  an  argument  the  most  persuasive  to  their 
minds,  and  without  which  all  others  would  have  proved 


156  IVANHOE. 

in  vain.  Promises  were  still  more  liberally  distributed 
than  money  by  this  active  agent ;  and,  in  fine,  nothing 
was  left  undone  that  could  determine  *the  wavering  or 
animate  the  disheartened.  The  return  of  King  Richard 
he  spoke  of  as  an  event  altogether  beyond  the  reach  of 
probability ;  yet,  when  he  observed,  from  the  doubtful 
looks  and  uncertain  answers  which  he  received,  that  this 
was  the  apprehension  by  which  the  minds  of  his  accom- 
plices were  most  haunted,  he  boldly  treated  that  event, 
should  it  really  take  place,  as  one  which  ought  not  to 
alter  their  political  calculations. 

"  If  Eichard  returns,"  said  Fitzurse,  "  he  returns  to  en- 
rich his  needy  and  impoverished  crusaders  at  the  expense 
of  those  who  did  not  follow  him  to  the  Holy  Land.  He 
returns  to  call  to  a  fearful  reckoning  those  who,  during 
his  absence,  have  done  aught  that  can  be  construed  of- 
fence or  encroachment  upon  either  the  laws  of  the  land 
or  the  privileges  of  the  crown.  He  returns  to  avenge 
upon  the  Orders  of  the  Temple  and  the  Hospital  the 
preference  which  they  showed  to  Philip  of  France  dur- 
ing the  wars  in  the  Holy  Land.  He  returns,  in  fine,  to 
punish  as  a  rebel  every  adherent  of  his  brother  Prince 
John.  Are  ye  afraid  of  his  power?  "  continued  the  art- 
ful confidant  of  that  Prince ;  "  we  acknowledge  him  a 
strong  and  valiant  knight ;  but  these  are  not  the  days  of 
King  Arthur,  when  a  champion  could  encounter  an  army. 
If  Richard  indeed  comes  back,  it  must  be  alone,  unfol- 
lowed,  unfriended.  The  bones  of  his  gallant  army  have 
whitened  the  sands  of  Palestine.  The  few  of  his  follow- 
ers who  have  returned  have  straggled  hither  like  this 
Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe,  beggared  and  broken  men.  —  And 
what  talk  ye  of  Richard's  right  of  birth  ?  "  he  proceeded, 
in  answer  to  those  who  objected  scruples  on  that  head. 
"  Is  Richard's  title  of  primogeniture  more  decidedly  cer- 
tain than  that  of  Duke  Robert  of  Normandy,  the  Con- 
queror's eldest  son  ?  And  yet  William  the  Red  and 
Henry,  his  second  and  third  brothers,  were  successively 
preferred  to  him  by  the  voice  of  the  nation.  Robert  had 
every  merit  which  can  be  pleaded  for  Richard :  he  was 
a  bold  knight,  a  good  leader,  generous  to  his  friends  and 


IVANHOE.  157 

to  the  church,  and,  to  crown  the  whole,  a  crusader  and  a 
conqueror  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  :  and  yet  he  died  a  blind 
and  miserable  prisoner  in  the  Castle  of  Cardiff,  because 
he  opposed  himself  to  the  will  of  the  people,  who  chose 
that  he  should  not  rule  over  them.  It  is  our  right,"  he 
said,  "  to  choose  from  the  blood  royal  the  prince  who  is 
best  qualified  to  hold  the  supreme  power  —  that  is,"  said 
he,  correcting  himself,  "him  whose  election  will  best 
promote  the  interests  of  the  nobility.  In  personal  quali- 
fications," he  added,  "  it  was  possible  that  Prince  John 
might  be  inferior  to  his  brother  Richard ;  but  when  it 
was  considered  that  the  latter  returned  with  the  sword  of 
vengeance  in  his  hand,  while  the  former  held  out  rewards, 
immunities,  privileges,  wealth,  and  honours,  it  could  not 
be  doubted  which  was  the  king  whom  in  wisdom  the 
nobility  were  called  on  to  support." 

These,  and  many  more  arguments,  some  adapted  to  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  those  whom  he  addressed,  had 
the  expected  weight  with  the  nobles  of  Prince  John's 
faction.  Most  of  them  consented  to  attend  the  proposed 
meeting  at  York,  for  the  purpose  of  making  general  ar- 
rangements for  placing  the  crown  upon  the  head  of  Prince 
John. 

It  was  late  at  night  when,  worn  out  and  exhausted  with 
his  various  exertions,  however  gratified  with  the  result, 
Fitzurse,  returning  to  the  Castle  of  Ashby,  met  with  De 
Bracy,  who  had  exchanged  his  banqueting  garments  for 
a  short  green  kirtle,  with  hose  of  the  same  cloth  and 
colour,  a  leathern  cap  or  headpiece,  a  short  sword,  a  horn 
slung  over  his  shoulder,  a  long-bow  in  his  hand,  and  a 
bundle  of  arrows  stuck  in  his  belt.  Had  Fitzurse  met 
this  figure  in  an  outer  apartment,  he  would  have  passed 
him  without  notice,  as  one  of  the  yeomen  of  the  guard ; 
but  finding  him  in  the  inner  hall,  he  looked  at  him  with 
more  attention,  and  recognised  the  Norman  knight  in  the 
dress  of  an  English  yeoman. 

"  What  mummery  is  this,  De  Bracy  ?  "  said  Fitzurse, 
somewhat  angrily ;  "is  this  a  time  for  Christinas  gambols 
and  quaint  maskings,  when  the  fate  of  our  master,  Prince 
John,  is  on  the  very  verge  of  decision  ?     Why  hast  thor 


158  IVANHOE. 

not  been,  like  me,  among  these  heartless  cravens  whom 
the  very  name  of  King  Richard  terrifies,  as  it  is  said  to 
do  the  children  of  the  Saracens  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  attending  to  mine  own  business,"  answered 
De  Bracy,  calmly,  "  as  you,  Fitzurse,  have  been  minding 
yours." 

"  In  minding  mine  own  business  ! "  echoed  Waldemar ; 
"  I  have  been  engaged  in  that  of  Prince  John,  our  joint 
patron." 

"As  if  thou  hadst  any  other  reason  for  that,  Walde- 
mar," said  De  Bracy,  "  than  the  promotion  of  thine  own 
individual  interest !     Come,  Fitzurse,  we  know  each  other 

—  ambition  is  thy  pursuit,  pleasure  is  mine,  and  they 
become  our  different  ages.  Of  Prince  John  thou  thinkest 
as  I  do  —  that  he  is  too  weak  to  be  a  determined  monarch, 
too  tyrannical  to  be  an  easy  monarch,  too  insolent  and 
presumptuous  to  be  a  popular  monarch,  and  too  fickle, 
and  timid  to  be  long  a  monarch  of  any  kind.     But  he  is 

a  monarch  by  whom  Fitzurse  and  De  Bracy  hope  to  rise  ^ 
and  thrive ;  and  therefore  you  aid  him  with  your  policy, 
and  I  with  the  lances  of  my  Free  Companions." 

"A  hopeful  auxiliary,"  said  Fitzurse,  impatiently, 
"  playing  the  fool  in  the  very  moment  of  utter  necessity. 

—  What  on  earth  dost  thou  purpose  by  this  absurd  dis- 
guise at  a  moment  so  urgent  ?  " 

"  To  get  me  a  wife,"  answered  De  Bracy,  coolly,  "  after 
the  manner  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin." 

"  The  tribe  of  Benjamin  !  "  said  Fitzurse.  "  I  compre- 
hend thee  not." 

"  Wert  thou  not  in  presence  yestereven,"  said  De  Bracy, 
"  when  we  heard  the  Prior  Aymer  tell  us  a  tale  in  reply 
to  the  romance  which  was  sung  by  the  minstrel  ?  —  He 
told  how,  long  since  in  Palestine,  a  deadly  feud  arose 
between  the  tribe  of  Benjamin  and  the  rest  of  the  Israel- 
itish  nation ;  and  how  they  cut  to  pieces  well-nigh  all  the 
chivalry  of  that  tribe ;  and  how  they  swore  by  our  blessed 
Lady  that  they  would  not  permit  those  who  remained  to 
marry  in  their  lineage  ;  and  how  they  became  grieved  for 
their  vow,  and  sent  to  consult  his  holiness  the  Pope  how 
they  might  be  absolved  from  it ;  and  how,  by  the  advice 


'i 


IVANHOE.  159 

of  the  Holy  Father,  the  youth  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin 
carried  off  from  a  superb  tournament  all  the  ladies 
who  were  there  present,  and  thus  won  them  wives  with- 
out the  consent  either  of  their  brides  or  their  brides' 
families." 

"  I  have  heard  the  story,"  said  Fitzurse,  "  though  either 
the  Prior  or  thou  hast  made  some  singular  alterations  in 
date  and  circumstances." 

"  I  tell  thee,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  that  I  mean  to  purvey 
me  a  wife  after  the  fashion  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin ; 
which  is  as  much  as  to  say,  that  in  this  same  equipment 
I  will  fall  upon  that  herd  of  Saxon  bullocks  who  have 
this  night  left  the  castle,  and  carry  off  from  them  the 
lovely  Rowena." 

"  Art  thou  mad,  De  Bracy  ?  "  said  Fitzurse.  "  Bethink 
thee  that,  though  the  men  be  Saxons,  they  are  rich  and 
powerful,  and  regarded  with  the  more  respect  by  their 
countrymen  that  wealth  and  honour  are  but  the  lot  of 
few  of  Saxon  descent." 

"  And  should  belong  to  none,"  said  De  Bracy ;  "  the 
work  of  the  Conquest  should  be  completed." 

"  This  is  no  time  for  it  at  least,"  said  Fitzurse ;  "  the 
approaching  crisis  renders  the  favour  of  the  multitude 
indispensable,  and  Prince  John  cannot  refuse  justice  to 
any  one  who  injures  their  favourites." 

"  Let  him  grant  it  if  he  dare,"  said  De  Bracy  ;  "  he  will 
soon  see  the  difference  betwixt  the  support  of  such  a  lusty 
lot  of  spears  as  mine  and  that  of  a  heartless  mob  of  Saxon 
churls.  Yet  I  mean  no  immediate  discovery  of  myself. 
Seem  I  not  in  this  garb  as  bold  a  forester  as  ever  blew 
horn  ?  The  blame  of  the  violence  shall  rest  with  the 
outlaws  of  the  Yorkshire  forests.  I  have  sure  spies  on 
the  Saxons'  motions.  To-night  they  sleep  in  the  convent 
of  St.  Wittol,  or  Withold,  or  whatever  they  call  that  churl 
of  a  Saxon  saint,  at  Burton-on-Trent.  Next  day's  march 
brings  them  within  our  reach,  and,  falcon-ways,  we  swoop 
on  them  at  once.  Presently  after  I  will  appear  in  mine 
own  shape,  play  the  courteous  knight,  rescue  the  unfor- 
tunate and  afflicted  fair  one  from  the  hands  of  the  rude 
ravishers,  conduct  her  to  Front-de-Boeuf's  castle,  or  to 


160  IVANHOE. 

Normandy,  if  it  should  be  necessary,  and  produce  her  not 
again  to  her  kindred  until  she  be  the  bride  and  dame  of 
Maurice  de  Bracy." 

"A  marvellously  sage  plan,"  said  Fitzurse,  "and,  as  I 
think,  not  entirely  of  thine  own  device.  —  Come,  be  frank, 
De  Bracy,  who  aided  thee  in  the  invention  ?  and  who  is 
to  assist  in  the  execution  ?  for,  as  I  think,  thine  own 
band  lies  as  far  off  as  York." 

"  Marry,  if  thou  must  needs  know,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  it 
was  the  Templar  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  that  shaped  out 
the  enterprise,  which  the  adventure  of  the  men  of  Benja- 
min suggested  to  me.  He  is  to  aid  me  in  the  onslaught, 
and  he  and  his  followers  will  personate  the  outlaws,  from 
whom  my  valorous  arm  is,  after  changing  my  garb,  to 
rescue  the  lady." 

"  By  my  halidome,"  said  Fitzurse,  "  the  plan  was  worthy 
of  your  united  wisdom !  and  thy  prudence,  De  Bracy,  is 
most  especially  manifested  in  the  project  of  leaving  the 
lady  in  the  hands  of  thy  worthy  confederate.  Thou 
mayst,  I  think,  succeed  in  taking  her  from  her  Saxon 
friends,  but  how  thou  wilt  rescue  her  afterwards  from  the 
clutches  of  Bois-Guilbert  seems  considerably  more  doubt- 
ful. He  is  a  falcon  well  accustomed  to  pounce  on  a  par- 
tridge and  to  hold  his  prey  fast." 

"  He  is  a  Templar,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  and  cannot  there- 
fore rival  me  in  my  plan  of  wedding  this  heiress ;  and 
to  attempt  aught  dishonourable  against  the  intended  bride 
of  De  Bracy  —  By  heaven !  were  he  a  whole  Chapter  of 
his  Order  in  his  single  person,  he  dared  not  do  me  such 
an  injury ! " 

"  Then,  since  nought  that  I  can  say,"  said  Fitzurse, 
"will  put  this  folly  from  thy  imagination,  for  well  I 
know  the  obstinacy  of  thy  disposition,  at  least  waste  as 
little  time  as  possible ;  let  not  thy  folly  be  lasting  as  well 
as  untimely." 

"  I  tell  thee,"  answered  De  Bracy,  "that  it  will  be  the 
work  of  a  few  hours,  and  I  shall  be  at  York  at  the  head 
of  my  daring  and  valorous  fellows,  as  ready  to  support 
any  bold  design  as  thy  policy  can  be  to  form  one.  But  I 
hear  my  comrades  assembling,  and  the  steeds  stamping 


IVANHOE.  161 


and  neighing  in  the  outer  court.  —  Farewell.  —  I  go,  like 
a  true  knight,  to  win  the  smiles  of  beauty." 

"  Like  a  true  knight !  "  repeated  Fitzurse,  looking  after 
him ;  "  like  a  fool,  I  should  say,  or  like  a  child,  who  will 
leave  the  most  serious  and  needful  occupation  to  chase 
the  down  of  the  thistle  that  drives  past  him.  —  But  it  is 
with  such  tools  that  I  must  work  —  and  for  whose  advan- 
tage ?  —  For  that  of  a  Prince  as  unwise  as  he  is  profligate, 
and  as  likely  to  be  an  ungrateful  master  as  he  has  already 
proved  a  rebellious  son  and  an  unnatural  brother.  But  he 
—  he,  too,  is  but  one  of  the  tools  with  which  I  labour ;  and, 
proud  as  he  is,  should  he  presume  to  separate  his  interest 
from  mine,  this  is  a  secret  which  he  shall  soon  learn." 

The  meditations  of  the  statesman  were  here  interrupted 
by  the  voice  of  the  Prince  from  an  interior  apartment 
calling  out,  "  Noble  Waldemar  Fitzurse  !  "  and,  with  bon- 
.  net  doffed,  the  future  Chancellor,  for  to  such  high  prefer- 
ment did  the  wily  Norman  a§pire,  hastened  to  receive  the 
orders  of  the  future  sovereign. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Far  in  a  wild,  unknown  to  public  view, 
From  youth  to  age  a  reverend  hermit  grew  ; 
The  moss  his  bed,  the  cave  his  humble  cell, 
His  food  the  fruits,  his  drink  the  crystal  well  ; 
Remote  from  man,  with  God  he  pass'd  his  days, 
Prayer  all  his  business,  all  his  pleasure  praise. 

Parnell. 

The  reader  cannot  have  forgotten  that  the  event  of  the 
tournament  was  decided  by  the  exertions  of  an  unknown 
knight,  whom,  on  account  of  the  passive  and  indifferent 
'conduct  which  he  had  manifested  on  the  former  part  of 
the  day,  the  spectators  had  entitled  Le  Noir  Faineant. 
This  knight  had  left  the  field  abruptly  when  the  victory 
was  achieved ;  ancTwhen  he  was  called  upon  to  receive 
the  reward  of  his  valour  he  was  nowhere  to  be  found. 
In  the  meantime,  while  summoned  by  heralds  and  by 
trumpets,  the  knight  was  holding  his  course  northward, 

M 


? 


162  IVANHOE. 

avoiding  all  frequented  paths,  and  taking  the  shortest 
road  through  the  woodlands.  He  paused  for  the  night 
at  a  small  hostelry  lying  out  of  the  ordinary  route,  where, 
however,  he  obtained  from  a  wandering  minstrel  news  of 
the  event  of  the  tourney. 

On  the  next  morning  the  knight  departed  early,  with 
the  intention  of  making  a  long  journey ;  the  condition  of 
his  horse,  which  he  had  carefully  spared  during  the  pre- 
ceding morning,  being  such  as  enabled  him  to  travel  far 
without  the  necessitjr  of  much  repose.  Yet  his  purpose 
was  baffled  by  the  devious  paths  through  which  he  rode, 
so  that  when  evening  closed  upon  him  he  only  found 
himself  on  the  frontiers  of  the  West  Riding  of  Yorkshire. 
By  this  time  both  horse  and  man  required  refreshment, 
and  it  became  necessary,  moreover,  to  look  out  for  some 
place  in  which  they  might  spend  the  night,  which  was 
now  fast  approaching. 

The  place  where  the  traveller  found  himself  seemed 
unpropitious  for  obtaining  either  shelter  or  refreshment, 
and  he  was  likely  to  be  reduced  to  the  usual  expedient 
of  knights  errant,  who,  on  such  occasions,  turned  their 
horses  to  graze,  and  laid  themselves  down  to  meditate  on 
their  lady-mistress,  with  an  oak  tree  for  a  canopy.  But 
the  Black  Knight  either  had  no  mistress  to  meditate 
upon,  or,  being  as  indifferent  in  love  as  he  seemed  to  be 
in  war,  was  not  sufficiently  occupied  by  passionate  reflec- 
tions upon  her  beauty  and  cruelty  to  be  able  to  parry 
the  effects  of  fatigue  and  hunger,  and  suffer  love  to  act 
as  a  substitute  for  the  solid  comforts  of  a  bed  and  supper. 
He  felt  dissatisfied,  therefore,  when,  looking  around,  he 
found  himself  deeply  involved  in  woods,  through  which 
indeed  there  were  many  open  glades  and  some  paths,  but 
such  as  seemed  only  formed  by  the  numerous  herds  of 
cattle  which  grazed  in  the  forest,  or  by  the  animals  of 
chase  and  the  hunters  who  made  prey  of  them. 

The  sun,  by  which  the  knight  had  chiefly  directed  his 
course,  had  now  sunk  behind  the  Derbyshire  hills  on  his 
left,  and  every  effort  which  he  might  make  to  pursue 
his  journey  was  as  likely  to  lead  him  out  of  his  road  as 
to  advance  him  on  his  route.     After  having  in  vain  en- 


IVANHOE.  163 

deavoured  to  select  the  most  beaten  path,  in  hopes 
it  might  lead  to  the  cottage  of  some  herdsman  or  the 
silvan  lodge  of  a  forester,  and  having  repeatedly  found 
himself  totally  unable  to  determine  on  a  choice,  the  knight  / 
resolved  to  trust  to  the  sagacity  of  his  horse,  experience 
having  on  former  occasions  made  him  acquainted  with 
the  wonderful  talent  possessed  by  these  animals  for 
extricating  themselves  and  their  riders  on  such  emer- 
gencies.   &jJL,Jtl  -*  >J*«u£ij 

The  good  steed,  grievously  fatigued  with  so  long  a 
day's  journey  under  a  rider  cased  in  mail,  had  no  sooner 
found,  by  the  slackened  reins,  that  he  was  abandoned  to 
his  own  guidance,  than  he  seemed  to  assume  new  strength 
and  spirit;  and  whereas  formerly  he  had  scarce  replied 
to  the  spur  otherwise  than  by  a  groan,  he  now,  as  if 
proud  of  the  confidence  reposed  in  him,  pricked  up  his 
ears,  and  assumed,  of  his  own  accord,  a  more  lively 
motion.  The  path  which  the  animal  adopted  rather 
turned  off  from  the  course  pursued  by  the  knight  during 
the  day ;  but  as  the  horse  seemed  confident  in  his  choice, 
the  rider  abandoned  himself  to  his  discretion. 

He  was  justified  by  the  event,  for  the  footpath  soon 
after  appeared  a  little  wider  and  more  worn,  and  the 
tinkle  of  a  small  bell  gave  the  knight  to  understand  that 
he  was  in  the  vicinity  of  some  chapel  or  hermitage. 

Accordingly,  he  soon  reached  an  open  plat  of  turf,  on 
the  opposite  side  of  which  a  rock,  rising  abruptly  from  a 
gently  sloping  plain,  offered  its  grey  and  weatherbeaten 
front  to  the  traveller.  Ivy  mantled  its  sides  in  some 
places,  and  in  others  oaks  and  holly  bushes,  whose  roots 
found  nourishment  in  the  cliffs  of  the  crag,  waved  over 
the  precipices  below,  like  the  plumage  of  the  warrior  over 
his  steel  helmet,  giving  grace  to  that  whose  chief  expres- 
sion was  terror.  At  the  bottom  of  the  rock,  and  leaning, 
as  it  were,  against  it,  was  constructed  a  rude  hut,  built 
chiefly  of  the  trunks  of  trees  felled  in  the  neighbouring 
forest,  and  secured  against  the  weather  by  having  its 
crevices  stuffed  with  moss  mingled  with  clay.  The  stem 
of  a  young  fir-tree  lopped  of  its  branches,  with  a  piece 
of  wood  tied  across  near  the  top,  was  planted  upright  by 


164  IVANHOE. 

the  door,  as  a  rude  emblem  of  the  holy  cross.  At  a  little 
distance  on  the  right  hand,  a  fountain  of  the  purest  water 
trickled  out  of  the  rock,  and  was  received  in  a  hollow 
stone,  which  labour  had  formed  into  a  rustic  basin.  Es- 
caping from  thence,  the  stream  murmured  down  the 
descent  by  a  channel  which  its  course  had  long  worn, 
and  so  wandered  through  the  little  plain  to  lose  itself  in 
the  neighbouring  wood. 

Beside  this  fountain  were  the  ruins  of  a  very  small 
chapel,  of  which  the  roof  had  partly  fallen  in.  The 
building,  when  entire,  had  never  been  above  sixteen  feet 
long  by  twelve  feet  in  breadth,  and  the  roof,  low  in  pro- 
portion, rested  upon  four  concentric  arches  which  sprung 
from  the  four  corners  of~the  building,  each  supported 
upon  a  short  and  heavy  pillar.  The  ribs  of  two  of  these 
arches  remained,  though  the  roof  had~falTen  down  betwixt 
them  ;  over  the  others  it  remained  entire.  The  entrance 
to  this  ancient  place  of  devotion  was  under  a  very  low 
round  arch,  ornamented  by  several  courses  of  that  zig-zag 
moulding,  resembling  sharks'  teeth,  which  appears  so 
often  in  the  more  ancient  Saxon  architecture.  A  belfry 
rose  above  the  porch  on  four  small  pillars,  within  which 
hung  the  green  and  weatherbeaten  bell,  the  feeble  sounds 
of  which  had  been  some  time  before  heard  by  the  Black 
Knight. 

The  whole  peaceful  and  quiet  scene  lay  glimmering  in 
twilight  before  the  eyes  of  the  traveller,  giving  him  good 
assurance  of  lodging  for  the  night :  since  it  was  a  special 
duty  of  those  hermits  who  dwelt  in  the  woods  to  exercise 
hospitality  towards  benighted  or  bewildered  passengers. 

Accordingly,  the  knight  took  no  time  to  consider 
minutely  the  particulars  which  we  have  detailed,  but 
thanking  St.  Julian,  the  patron  of  travellers,  who  had 
sent  him  good  harbourage,  he  leaped  from  his  horse 
and  assailed  the  door  of  the  hermitage  with  the  butt  of 
his  lance,  in  order  to  arouse  attention  and  gain  admittance. 

It  was  some  time  before  he  obtained  any  answer,  and 
the  reply,  when  made,  was  unpropitious. 

"  Pass  on,  whosoever  thou  art, ;  was  the  answer  given 
by  a  deer)  hoarse  voice  from  within  the  hi  t,  f  anr*  disturb 


IVANHOE.  165 

not  the  servant  of  God  and  St.  Dunstan  in  his  evening 
devotions." 

"  Worthy  father,"  answered  the  knight,  "  here  is  a  poor 
wanderer  bewildered  in  these  woods,  who  gives  thee  the 
opportunity  of  exercising  thy  charity  and  hospitality." 

"  Good  brother,"  replied  the  inhabitant  of  the  hermi- 
tage, "  it  has  pleased  Our  Lady  and  St.  Dunstan  to  destine 
me  for" the  object  of  those  virtues,  instead  of  the  exercise 
thereof.  I  have  no  provisions  here  which  even  a  dog 
would  share  with  me,  and  a  horse  of  any  tenderness  of 
nurture  would  despise  my  couch ;  pass  therefore  on  thy 
way,  and  God  speed  thee." 

("  But  how/'  replied  the  knight,  fis  it  possible  for  me 
to  Tind  my  way  through  such  a  wood  as  this,  when  dark- 
ness is  coming  on  ?  I  pray  you,  reverend  father,  as  you 
are  a  Christian*  to  undo  your  door,  and  at  least  point  out 
to  me  my  road." 

"And  I  pray  you,  good  Christian  brother/'  replied  the 

anchorite,  "to  disturb  me  no  more.     You  have  already 

interrupted  xme  pater,  two  aves,  and  a  credo,  which  I, 

'  miserable  sinner  "that  I  am.  should,  according  to  my  vow, 

have  said  before  moonrise^ 

f  The  road  —  the  road  Vf  vociferated  the  knight ;  "  give 
me  directions  for  the  road,  if  I  am  to  expect  no  "more 
from  thee.7  *>- 

"The  road,"  replied  the  hermit,  "is  easy  to  hit.  The 
path  from  the  wood  leads  to  a  morass,  and  from  thence 
to  a  _f ord,  which,  as  the  rains  have  abated,  may  now  be 
passable.  When  thou  hast  crossed  the  ford,  thou  wilt 
take  care  of  thy  footing  up  the  left  bank,  as  it  is  some- 
what precipitous,  and  the  path,  which  hangs  over  the 
river,  has  lately,  as  I  learn  —  for  I  seldom  leave  the 
duties  of  my  chapel —  given  way  in  sundry  places.     Thou 


;un 


wil£  then  keep  straight  forward 

'{ A  broken  path  —  a  precipice  —  a  ford  —  and  a  mo-  v^# 
rass  !  V  said  the  knight,  interrupting  him.  u  Sir  Hermit, 
if  you  were  the  holiest  that  ever  wore  beard  or  told  bead, 
you  shall  scarce  prevail  on  me  to  hold  this  road  to-night. 
I  tell  thee,  that  thou,  who  livest  by  the  charity  of  the 
country — ill-deserved  as  I  doubt  it  is  — hast  no  right  to 


166  IVANHOE.  a^^ 

. 
refuse  shelter  to  the  wayfarer  when  in  distress.     Either 
open  the  door  quickly,  or,  by  the  rood,   I  will  beat  it 
down  and  make  entry  for  myself." 

<<  Friend  wayfarer,"  replied  the  hermit,  ki be  not  im- 
portunate ;  if  thou  puttest  me  to  use  the  carnal  weapon 
in  mine  own  defence,  it  will  be  e'en  the  worse  for  you.* 

At  this  moment  a  distant  noise  of  barking  and  growl- 
ing, which  the  traveller  had  for  some  time  heard,  became 
extremely  loud  and  furious,  and  made  the  knight  suppose 
that  the  hermit,  alarmed  by  his  threat  of  making  forcible 
entry,  had  called  the  dogs,  who  made  this  clamour  to  aid 
him  in  his  defence,  out  of  some  inner  recess  in  which 
they  had  been  kennelled.  Incensed  at  this  preparation  on 
the  hermit's  part  for  making  good  his  inhospitable  pur- 
pose, the  knight  struck  the  door  so  furiously  with  his 
foot  that  posts  as  well  as  staples  shook  with  violence. 

The  anchorite,  not  caring  again  to  expose  his  door  to  a 
similar  shock,  now  called  out  aloud :  ^  Patience,  patience 
—  spare  thy  strength,  good  traveller,  and  I  will  presently 
undo  the  door,  though,  it  may  be,  my  doing  so  will  be 
little  to  thy  pleasure^' 

The  door  accordingly  was  opened ;  and  the  hermit,  a 
large,  strong-built  man,  in  his  sackcloth  gown  and  hood, 
girt  with  a  rope  of  rushes,  stood  before  the  knight.  He 
had  in  one  hand  a  lighted  torch,  or  link,  and  in  the  other 
a  baton  of  crab  tree,  so  thick  and  heavy  that  it  might 
well  be  termed  a  club.  ,  Two  large  shaggy  dogs,  half 
greyhound,  half  mastiff,  stood  ready  to  rush  upon  the 
traveller  as  soon  as  the  door  should  be  opened.  But 
when  the  torch  glanced  upon  the  lofty  crest  and  golden 
spurs  of  the  knight  who  stood  without,  the  hermit,  alter- 
ing probably  his  original  intentions,  repressed  the  rage 
of  his  auxiliaries,  and,  changing  his  tone  to  a  sort  of 
churlish  courtesy,  invited  the  knight  to  enter  his  hut, 
making  excuse  for  his  unwillingness  to  open  his  lodge 
after  sunset  by  alleging  the  multitude  of  robbers  and 
outlaws  who  were  abroad,  and  who  gave  no  honour  to 
Our  Lady  or  St.  Dunstan,  nor  to  those  holy  men  who 
spent  life  in  their  service.  . 

^The  poverty  of  your   cell,  good   father,']  said   the 


IVANHOE.  167 

knight,  looking  aroimd  him,  and  seeing  nothing  but  a 
bed  of  leaves,  a  crucifix  rudely  carved  in  oak,  a  missal, 
with  a  rough-hewn  table  and  two  stools,  and  one  or  two 
clumsy  articles  of  furniture  —  f'the  poverty  of  your  cell 
should  seem  a  sufficient  defence  against  any  risk  of 
thieves,  not  to  mention  the  aid  of  two  trusty  dogs,  large 
and  strong  enough,  I  think,  to  pull  down  a  stag,  and,  of 
course,  to  match  with  most  memy 

x-Z'The  good  keeper  of  the  forest,"  <  said  the  hermit, 
("liath  allowed  me  the  use  of  these  animals  to  protect 
my  solitude  until  the  times  shall  mency) 

Having  said  this,  he  fixed  his  torch  in  a  twisted 
branch  of  iron  which  served  for  a  candlestick ;  and  plac- 
ing the  oaken  trivet  before  the  embers  of  the  fire,  which  —3 
he  refreshed  with  some  dry  wood,  he  placed  a  stool  upon 
one  side  of  the  table,  and  beckoned  to  the  knight  to  do 
the  same  upon  the  other. 

They  sat  down,  and  gazed  with  great  gravity  at  each 
other,  each  thinking  in  his  heart  that  he  had  seldom 
seen  a  stronger  or  more  athletic  figure  than  was  placed 
opposite  to  him. 

</  Reverend  hermit,')  said  the  knight,  after  looking 
long  and  fixedly  at  his  host,  r  were  it  not  to  interrupt 
your  devout  meditations,  I  would  pray  to  know  three 
things  of  your  holiness ;  first,  where  I  am  to  put  my 
horse  ?  —  secondly,  what  I  can  have  for  supper  ?  — 
thirdly,  where  I  am  to  take  up  my  couch  for  the 
night  ?/ 

%I  will  reply  to  you,"  said  the  hermit,  'J with  my 
finger,  it  being  against  my  rule  to  speak  by  words  where 
signs  can  answer  the  purpose.^/  So  saying,  he  pointed 
successively  to  two  corners  of  the  hut.  .  f  Your  stable,'J 
said  he,  f  is  there  ;  your  bed  there ;  and,')  reaching  down 
a  platter^with  two  handfuls  of  parched  pease  upon  it 
from  the  neighbouring  shelf,  and  placing  it  upon  the 
table,  he  added,  ^your  supper  is  here.'j 

The  knight  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  leaving  the 
hut,  brought  in  his  horse,  which  in  the  interim  he  had 
fastened  to  a  tree,  unsaddled  him  with  much  attention, 
and  spread  upon  the  steed's  weary  back  his  own  mantle. 

i    ■ 


168  IV AN  HOE. 

The  hermit  was  apparently  somewhat  moved  to  com 
passion  by  the  anxiety  as  well  as  address  which  the 
stranger  displayed  in  tending  his  horse ;  for,  muttering 
something  about  provender  left  for  the  keeper's  palfrey, 
he  dragged  out  of  a  recess  a  bundle  of  forage,  which  he 
spread  before  the  knight's  charger,  and  immediately 
afterwards  shook  down  a  quantity  of  dried  fern  in  the 
corner  which  he  had  assigned  for  the  rider's  couch.  The 
knight  returned  him  thanks  for  his  courtesy  ;  and,  this 
duty  done,  both  resumed  their  seats  by  the  table,  whereon 
stood  the  trencher  of  pease  placed  between  them.  The 
hermit,  after  a  long  grace,  which  had  once  been  Latin, 
but  of  which  original  language  few  traces  remained, 
excepting  here  and  there  the  long  rolling  termination  of 
some  word  or  phrase,  set  example  to  his  guest  by  mod- 
estly putting  into  a  very  large  mouth,  furnished  with 
teeth  which  might  have  ranked  with  those  of  a  boar  both 
in  sharpness  and  whiteness,  some  three  or  four  dried 
pease,  a  miserable  grist,  as  .it  seemed,  for  so  large  and 
able  a  mill.  <iijrfMZ*^ 

The  knight,  in  order  to  follow  so  laudable  an  example, 
laid  aside  his  helmet,  his  corselet,  and  the  greater  part 
of  his  armour,  and  showed  to  the  hermit  a  head  thick- 
,  curled  with  yellow  hair,  high  features,  blue  eyes,  re- 
markably bright  and  sparkling,  a  mouth  well-formed, 
having  an  upper  lip  clothed  with  niustachioes  darker 
than  his  hair,  and  bearing  altogether  the  look  of  a  bold, 
daring,  and  enterprising  man,  with  which  his  strong 
form  well  corresponded. 

The  hermit,  as  if  wishing  to  answer  to  the  confidence 
of  his  guest,  threw  back  his  _cowl,  and  showed  a  round 
bullet-head  belonging  to  a  man  in  the  prime  of  life.  His 
close-shaven  crown,  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  stiff  curled 
black  hair,  had  something  the  appearance  of  a  parish- 
pinfold  begirt  by  its  high  hedge.  The  features  expressed 
nothing  of  monastic  austerity  or  of  ascetic  privations  ; 
on  the,  contrary,  it  was  a,  bold  bluff  countenance,  with 
broad  black  eyebrows,  a  well-turned  forehead,  and  cheeks 
as  round  and  vermilion  as  those  of  a  trumpeter,  from 
which  descended  a  long  and  curly  black  beard.     Such  a 


IVANHOE.  169 

visage,  joined  to  the  brawny  form  of  the  holy  man,  spoke 
rather  of  sirloins  and  haunches  than  of  pease  and  pulse. 
This  incongruity  did  not  escape  the  guest.  After  he 
had  with  great  difficulty  accomplished  the  mastication  of  s 
a  mouthful  of  the  dried  pease,  he  found  it  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  request  his  pious  entertainer  to  furnish  him  with 
some  liquor ;  who  replied  to  his  request  by  placing  before 
him  a  large  can  of  the  purest  water  from  the  fountain, 

"  It  is  from  the  well  of  St.  Dunstan,")  said  he,  1'  in 
which,  betwixt  sun  and  sun,  he  baptized  live  hundred 
„  heathen  Danes  and  Britons  —  blessed  be  his  name!"' 
And  applying  his  black  beard  to  the  pitcher,  he  took  a 
draught  much  more  moderate  in  quantity  than  his  en- 
comium seemed  to  warrant, 

/"  It  seems  to  me,  reverend  father, "J  said  the  knight, 
4 Nmat  the  small  morsels  which  you  eat,  together  with 
this  holy  but  somewhat  thin  beverage,  have  thriven  with 
you  marvellously.  You  appear  a  man  more  fit  to  win  the 
ram  at  a  wrestling-match,  or  the  ring  at  a  bout  at  quarter- 
staff,  or  the  bucklers  at  a  sword-play,  than  to  linger  out 
your  time  in  this  desolate  wilderness,  sayimg  masses,  and 
living  upon  parched  pease  and  cold  water.'') 

J' Sir  Knight,!  answered  the  hermit,  'f  your  thoughts, 
like  those  of  the  ignorant  laity,  are  according  to  the 
flesh.  It  has  pleased  Our  Lady  and  my  patron  saint  to 
bless  the  pittance  to  which  I  restrain  myself,  even  as 
the  pulse  and  water  was  blessed  to  the  children  Shad- 
rach,  Meshech,  and  Abednego,  who  drank  the  same 
rather  than  defile  themselves  with  the  wine  and  meats 
which  were  appointed  them  by  the  King  of  the  Saracens.) 
("  Holy  father,*)  said  the  knight,  f '  upon  whose  counte- 
nance it  hath  pleased  Heaven  to  work  such  a  miracle,^ 
permit  a  sinful  layman  to  crave  thy  name  ?V 

f  Thou  mayst  call  me,'*  answered  the  hermit,  "the 
Cl£rk  of  Copmanhurst,  for  so  I  am  termed  in  these  parts. 
—  They  add,  it  is  true,  the  epithet  holy,  but  I  stand  not 
upon  that,  as  being  unworthy  of  such  addition.  —  And 
now,  valiant  knight,  may  I  pray  ye  for  the  name  of  my 
honourable  guest  ? '/ 

"  Truly,"isaid  the  knight,  "  Holy  Clerk  of  Copmanhurst, 


170  IVANHOE. 

men  call  me  in  these  parts  the  Black  Knight,  —  many, 
sir,  add  to  it  the  epithet  of  Sluggard,  whereby  I  am  no 
way  ambitious  to  be  distinguished.') 

The  hermit  could  scarcely  forbear  from  smiling  at  his 
guest's  reply.  _ 

"I  see,"  said  he,'"  Sir  Sluggish  Knight,  that  thou  art 
a  man  of  prudence  and  of  counsel ;  and,  moreover,  I  see 
that  my  poor  monastic  fare  likes  thee  not,  accustomed, 
perhaps,  as  thou  hast  been  to  the  license  of  courts  and  of 
camps,  and  the  luxuries  of  cities ;  and  now  I  bethink  me, 
Sir  Sluggard,  that  when  the  charitable  keeper  of  this 
forest-walk  left  these  dogs  for  my  protection,  and  also 
those  bundles  of  forage,  he  left  me  also  some  food,  which, 
being  unfit  for  my  use,  the  very  recollection  of  it  had 
escaped  me  amid  my  more  weighty  meditations. 7 

".  I  dare  be  sworn  he  did  so,"  said  the  knight ;  "  I  was 
convinced  that  there  was  better  food  in  the  cell,  Holy 
Clerk,  since  you  first  doffed  your  cowl.  —  Your  keeper  is 
ever  a  jovial  fellow;  and  none  who  beheld  thy  grinders 
contending  with  these  pease,  and  thy  throat  flooded  with 
this  ungenial  element,  could  see  thee  doomed  to  such 
horse-provender  and  horse-beverage  {pointing  to  the  pro- 
visions upon  the  table),  and  refrain  from  mending  thy 
cheer.  Let  us  see  the  keeper's  bounty,  therefore,  with- 
out delay."  v^/ 

The  hermit  cast  a  wistful  look  upon  the  knight,  in 
which  there  was  a  sort  of  comic  expression  of  hesitation, 
as  if  uncertain  how  far  he  should  act  prudently  in  trust- 
ing his  guest.  There  was,  however,  as  much  of  bold 
frankness  in  the  knight's  countenance  as  was  possible  to 
be  expressed  by  features.  His  smile,  too,  had  something 
in  it  irresistibly  comic,  and  gave  an  assurance  of  faith 
and  loyalty,  with  which  his  host  could  not  refrain  from 
sympathising. 

After  exchanging  a  mute  glance  or  two,  the  hermit 
went  to  the  further  side  of  the  hut,  and  opened  a  hutch, 
which  was  concealed  with  great  care  and  some  ingenuity. 
Out  of  the  recesses  of  a  dark  closet,  into  which  this' 
aperture  gave  admittance,  he  brought  a  large  pasty, 
baked  in  a  pewter  platter  of  unusual  dimensions.     This 


IVANHOE.  Ill 

mighty  dish  he  placed  before  his  guest,  who,  using  his 
poniard  to  cut  it  open,  lost  no  time  in  making  himself 
acquainted  with  its  contents. 

{" How  long  is  it  since  the  good  keeper  has  been  here ?j 
said  the  knight  to  his  host,  after  having  swallowed 
several  hasty  morsels  of  this  reinforcement  to  the  her- 
mit's good  cheer. 

"  About  two  months,''  answered  the  father,  hastily. 

<NBy  the  true  Lord,"  answered  the  knight,  "  everything 
in  your  hermitage  is  miraculous,  Holy  Clerk  !  for  I  would 
have  been  sworn  that  the  fat  buck  which  furnished  this 
venison  had  been  running  on  foot  within  the  week." 

The  hermit  was  somewhat  discountenanced  by  this 
observation;  and,  moreover,  he  made  but  a  poor  figure 
while  gazing  on  the  diminution  of  the  pasty  on  which  his 
guest  was  making  desperate  inroads  —  a  warfare  in  which 
his  previous  profession  of  abstinence  left  him  no  pretext 
for  joining. 

'i  I  have  been  in  Palestine,  Sir  Clerk,"'  said  the  knight, 
stopping  short  of  a  sudden,  t'  and  I  bethink  me  it  is  a 
custom  there  that  every  host  who  entertains  a  guest  shall 
assure  him  of  the  wholesomeness  of  his  food  by  partak- 
ing of  it  along  with  him.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  suspect 
so  holy  a  man  of  aught  inhospitable  ;  nevertheless,  I  will 
be  highly  bound  to  you  would  you  comply  with  this 
Eastern  custom. 'J 

"  To  ease  your  unnecessary  ^scruples,  Sir  Knight,  I  will 
for  once  depart  from  my  rule,*]  replied  the  hermit.  And 
as  there  were  no  forks  in  those  days,  his  clutches  were 
instantly  in  the  bowels  of  the  pasty. 

The  ice  of  ceremony  being  once  broken,  it  seemed 
matter  of  rivalry  between  the  guest  and  the  entertainer 
which  should  display  the  best  appetite;  and  although  the 
former  had  probably  fasted  longest,  yet  the  hermit  fairly 
surpassed  him.  * 

"  Holy  Clerk,"  said  the  knight,  when  his  hunger  was 
appeased,  "  I  would  gage  my  good  horse  yonder  against 
a  zecchin,  that  that  same  honest  keeper  to  whom  we  are 
obliged  for  the  venison  has  left  thee  a  stoup  of  wine,  or 
a  runlet  of  canary,  or  some  such  trifle,  by  way  of  ally  to 


172  IVANHOE. 

this  noble  pasty.  This  would  be  a  circumstance,  doubt- 
less, totally  unworthy  to  dwell  in  the  memory  of  so  rigid 
an  anchorite ;  yet,  I  think,  were  you  to  search  yonder 
crypt  once,  more,  you  would  find  that  I  am  right  in  my 
^w,.  conjecture.^; 

The  hermit  only  replied  by  a  grin ;  and  returning  to 
the  hutch,  he  produced  a  leathern  bottle,  which  might 
contain  about  four  quarts.  He  also  brought  forth  two 
large  drinking  cups,  made  out  of  the  horn  of  the  urus, 
and  hooped  with  silver.  Having  made  this  goodly  pro- 
vision for  washing  down  the  supper,  he  seemed  to  think 
no  farther  ceremonious  scruple  necessary  on  his  part; 
but  filling  both  cups,  and  saying,  in  the  Saxon  fashion, 
/"  Waes  hael,  Sir  Sluggish  Knight ! ')  he  emptied  his  own 
Tit  a  draught. 

(i  Drinc  hael,  Holy  Clerk  of  Copmanhurst !  7  answered 
th^e  warrior,  and  did  his  host  reason  in  a  similar  brimmer. 
'"Holy  Clerk,"  said  the  stranger,  after  the  first  cup 
was  thus  swallowed,  "  I  cannot  but  marvel  that  a  man 
possessed  of  such  thaws  and  sinews  as  thine,  and  who 
therewithal  shows  the  talent  of  so  goodly  a  trencherman, 
should  think  of  abiding  by  himself  in  this  wilderness. 
In  my  judgment,  you  are  fitter  to  keep  a  castle  or  a  fort, 
eating  of  the  fat  and  drinking  of  the  strong,  than  to  live 
here  upon  pulse  and  water,  or  even  upon  the  charity  of 
the  keeper.  At  least,  were  I  as  thou,  I  should  find  my- 
self both  disport  and  plenty  out  of  the  king's  deer. 
There  is  many  a  goodly  herd  in  these  forests,  and  a  buck 
will  never  be  missed  that  goes  to  the  use  of  St.  Dunstan's 
chaplain^)  "  ?fcU  r 

f '  Sir  Sluggish  Knight,')  replied  the  Clerk,  r  these  are 
dangerous  words,  and  I  pray  you  to  forbear  them.  I  am 
true  hermit  to  the  king  and  law,  and  were  I  to  spoil  my 
liege's  game,  I  should  be  sure  of  the  prison,  and,  an  my 
gown  saved  me  not,  were  in  some  peril  of  hanging// 

^Nevertheless,  were  I  as  thou,'j  said  the  knignt,  ^1 
would  take  my  walk  by  moonlight,  when  foresters  and 
keepers  were  warm  in  bed,  and  ever  and  anon  —  as  I 
pattered  my  prayers  —  I  would  let  fly  a  shaft  among 
the  herds  of  dun  deer  that  feed  in  the  glades,  —  lie- 


IVANHOE.  173 

solve  me,  Holy  Clerk,  hast  thou  never  practised  such  a 
j3asj-,iine'.' "' 

'{Friend  Sluggard,')  answered  the  hermit,  " thou  hast 
seen  all  that  can  concern  thee  of  my  housekeeping,  and 
something  more  than  he  deserves  who  takes  up  his 
quarters  by  violence.  Credit  me,  it  is  better  to  enjoy 
the  good  which  God  sends  thee,  than  to  be  impertinently 
curious  how  it  comes.  Fill  thy  cup,  and  welcome ;  and 
do  not,  I  pray  thee,  by  further  impertinent  inquiries,  put 
me  to  show  that  thou  couldst  hardly  have  made  good  thy 
lodging  had  I  been  earnest  to  oppose  thee." 

"By  my  faith,"  said  the  knight,  "thou  makest  me 
more  curious  than  ever  !  Thou  art  the  most  mysterious 
hermit  I  ever  met;  and  I  will  know  more  of  thee  ere  we 
part.  As  for  thy  threats,  know,  holy  man,  thou  speakest 
to  one  whose  trade  it  is  to  find  out  danger  wherever  it  is 
to  be  met  with." 

"  Sir  Sluggish  Knight,  I  drink  to  thee,"  said  the  her- 
mit, "  respecting  thy  valour  much,  but  deeming  wondrous 
slightly  of  thy  discretion.  If  thou  wilt  take  equal  arms 
with  me,  I  will  give  thee,  in  all  friendship  and  brotherly 
love,  such  sufficing  penance  and  complete  absolution  that 
thou  shalt  not  for  the  next  twelve  months  sin  the  sin  of 
excess  of  curiosity." 

The  knight  pledged  him,  and  desired  him  to  name  his 
weapons. 

"  There  is  none,"  replied  the  hermit,  "  from  the  scissors 
of  Delilah  and  the  tenpenny  nail  of  Jael,  to  the  scimitar 
of  Goliath,  at  which  I  am  not  a  match  for  thee.  But,  if 
I  am  to  make  the  election,  what  sayst  thou,  good  friend, 
to  these  trinkets  '.'  " 

Thus  speaking,  he  opened  another  hutch,  and  took  out 
from  it  a  couple  of  broadswords  and  bucklers,  such  as 
were  used  by  the  yeomanry  of  the  period.  The  knight, 
who  watched  his  motions,  observed  that  this  second  place 
of  concealment  was  furnished  with  two  or  three  good  long- 
bows, a  cross-bow,  a  bundle  of  bolts  for  the  latter,  and 
half  a  dozen  sheaves  of  arrows  for  the  former.  A  harp, 
and  other  matters  of  a  veryjmcanonical  appearance^  were 
also  visible  when  this  dark  recess  was  opened. 


174  IVANHOE. 

"  I  promise  thee,  brother  Clerk,"  said  he,  "  I  will  ask 
thee  no  more  offensive  questions.  The  contents  of  that 
4^-cupboard  are  an  answer  to  all  my  inquiries ;  and  I  see  a 
weapon  there  (here  he  stooped  and  took  out  the  harp)  on 
which  I  would  more  gladly  prove  my  skill  with  thee  than 
at  the  sword  and  buckler." 

"I  hope,  Sir  Knight,"  said  the  hermit,  "thou  hast 
given  no  good  reason  for  thy  surname  of  the  Sluggard. 
I  do  promise  thee,  I  suspect  thee  grievously.  Neverthe- 
less, thou  art  my  guest,  and  I  will  not  put  thy  manhood 
to  the  proof  without  thine  own  free  will.  Sit  thee  down, 
then,  and  fill  thy  cup ;  let  us  drink,  sing,  and  be  merry. 
If  thou  knowest  ever  a  good  lay,  thou  shalt  be  welcome 
to  a  nook  of  pasty  at  Copmanhurst  so  long  as  I  serve  the 
chapel  of  St.  Dunstan,  which,  please  God,  shall  be  till  I 
change  my  grey  covering  for  one  of  green  turf.  But  come, 
till  a  flagon,  for  it  will  crave  some  time  to  tune  the  harp ; 
and  nought  pitches  the  voice  and  sharpens  the  ear  like  a 
cup  of  wine.  For  my  part,  I  love  to  feel  the  grape  at  my 
very  finger-ends  before  they  make  the  harp-strings  tinkle." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

At  eve,  within  yon  studious  nook, 

I  ope  my  brass-embossed  book, 

Portrayed  with  many  a  holy  deed 

Of  martyrs  crown' d  with  heavenly  meed ; 

Then,  as  my  taper  waxes  dim, 

Chant,  ere  I  sleep,  my  measured  hymn. 

•  *  •  •  • 

Who  but  would  cast  his  pomp  away, 

To  take  my  staff  and  amice  grey, 

And  to  the  world's  tumultuous  stage, 

Prefer  the  peaceful  Hermitage  ?  Warton. 

Notwithstanding  the  prescription  of  the  genial  her- 
mit, with  which  his  guest  willingly  complied,  he  found 
it  no  easy  matter  to  bring  the  harp  to  harmony. 

"Methinks,  holy  father,"  said  he,  "the  instrument  wants 
one  string,  and  the  rest  have  been  somewhat  misused." 

"  Ay,  mark'st  thou  that  ?  "  replied  the  hermit ;  "  that 


1VANH0E.  175 

shows  thee  a  master  of  the  craft.     Wine  and  wassail, "r,? 
he  added,  gravely  casting  up  his  eyes  —  "  all  the  fault  of  ' 
wine   and  wassail !     I    told   Allan-a-Dale,   the   northern 
minstrel,  that  he  would  damage  the  harp  if  he  touched 
it  after  the  seventh  cup,  but  he  would  not  be  controlled. 
Friend,  I  drink  to  thy  successful  performance." 

So  saying,  he  took  off  his  cup  with  much  gravity,  at 
the  same  time  shaking  his  head  at  the  intemperance  of 
the  Scottish  harper. 

The  knight,  in  the  meantime,  had  brought  the  strings 
into  some  order,  and,  after  a  short  prelude,  asked  his  host 
whether  he  would  choose  a  sirvente  in  the  language  of  oc, 
or  a  lai  in  the  language  of  oui,  or  a  virelai,  or  a  ballad  in 
the  vulgar  English. 

"A  ballad  —  a  ballad,"  said  the  hermit,  "against  all 
the  ocs  and  ouis  of  France.  Downright  English  am  I,  Sir 
Knight,  and  downright  English  was  my  patron  St.  Dun- 
stan,  and  scorned  oc  and  oui,  as  he  would  have  scorned 
the  .parings  of  the  devil's  hoof;  downright  English  alone 
shall  be  sung  in  this  cell." 

"  I  will  assay,  then,"  said  the  knight,  "  a  ballad  com- 
posed by  a  Saxon  gleeman,  whom  I  knew  in  Holy  Land." 

It  speedily  appeared  that,  if  the  knight  was  not  a  com- 
plete master  of  the  minstrel  art,  his  taste  for  it  had  at 
least  been  cultivated  under  the  best  instructors.  Art  had 
taught  him  to  soften  the  faults  of  a  voice  which  had  little 
compass,  and  was  naturally  rough  rather  than  mellow,  and, 
in  short,  had  done  all  that  culture  can  do  in  supplying 
natural  deficiencies.  His  performance,  therefore,  might 
have  been  termed  very  respectable  by  abler  judges  than 
the  hermit,  especially  as  the  knight  threw  into  the  notes 
now  a  degree  of  spirit,  and  now  of  plaintive  enthusiasm, 
which  gave  force  and  energy  to  the  verses  which  he  sung. 


The  Crusader's  Return. 

High  deeds  achieved  of  knightly  fame, 
From  Palestine  the  champion  came  ; 
The  cross  upon  his  shoulders  borne 
Battle  and  blast  had  dimm'd  and  torn. 


176  IVANHOE. 

Each  dint  upon  his  batter' d  shield 
Was  token  of  a  foughten  field  ; 
And  thus,  beneath  his  lady's  bower, 
He  sung,  as  fell  the  twilight  hour : 

44  Joy  to  the  fair !  —  thy  knight  behold, 

Return' d  from  yonder  land  of  gold. 

No  wealth  he  brings,  nor  wealth  can  need 

Save  his  good  arms  and  battle-steed, 

His  spurs,  to  dash  against  a  foe, 

His  lance  and  sword  to  lay  him  low ; 

Such  all  the  trophies  of  his  toil, 

Such  —  and  the  hope  of  Tekla's  smile  ! 

"  Joy  to  the  fair  !  whose  constant  knight 
Her  favour  fired  to  feats  of  might ; 
Unnoted  shall  she  not  remain, 
Where  meet  the  bright  and  noble  train  j 
Minstrel  shall  sing  and  herald  tell : 
'  Mark  yonder  maid  of  beauty  well, 
'Tis  she  for  whose  bright  eyes  was  won 
The  listed  field  at  Askalon  ! 

14 '  Note  well  her  smile  !  it  edged  the  blade 
Which  fifty  wives  to  widows  made, 
When,  vain  his  strength  and  Mahound's  spell 
Iconium's  turban'd^oldanJtell. 
Seest  thou  her  locksTwhose  sunny  glow 
Half  shows,  half  shades,  her  neck  of  snow  ? 
Twines  not  of  them  one  golden  thread, 
But  for  its  sake  a  Paynim  bled.' 

"Joy  to  the  fair  !  my  name  unknown, 

Each  deed  and  all  its  praise  thine  own  ; 

Then,  oh  !  unbar  this  churlish  gate, 

The  night  dew  falls,  the  hour  is  late. 

Inured  to  Syria's  glowing  breath, 

I  feel  the  north  breeze  chill  as  death  ; 

Let  grateful  love  quell  maiden  shame, 

And  grant  him  bliss  who  brings  thee  fame." 

During  this  performance  the  hermit  demeaned  himself 
much  like  a  first-rate  critic  of  the  present  day  at  a  new 
opera.  He  reclined  back  upon  his  seat  with  his  eyes  half 
shut ;  now  folding  his  hands  and  twisting  his  thumbs,  he 
seemed   absorbed  in  attention,  and  anon,  balancing  his 


•m 


And  CnSerttine*)  his  &<eJB     ' 


\\*t/ 


IVANHOE,  111 

expanded  palms,  he  gently  flourished  them  in  time  to  the 
music.     At  one  or  two  favourite  cadences  he  threw  in  a  **' 
little    assistance  of   his   own,   where   the    knight's  voice 
seemed  unable  to  carry  the  air  so  high  as  his  worshipful 
taste  approved.     When  the  song  was  ended,  the  ancho^ 
rite  emphatically  declared  it  a  good  one,  and  well  sung. 

"  And  yet,"  said  he,  "  I  think  my  Saxon  countrymen 
had  herded  long  enough  with  the  Normans  to  fall  into 
the  tone  of  their  melancholy  ditties.  What  took  the 
honest  knight  from  home  ?  or  what  could  he  expect  but 
to  find  his  mistress  agreeably  engaged  with  a  rival  on  his 
return,  and  his  serenade,  as  they  call  it,  as  little  regarded 
as  the  caterwauling  of  a  cat  in  the  gutter  ?  Nevertheless, 
Sir  Knight,  I  drink  this  cup  to  thee,  to  the  success  of  all 
true  lovers.  —  I  fear  you  are  none,"  he  added,  on  observ- 
ing that  the  knight,  whose  brain  began  to  be  heated  with 
these  repeated  draughts,  qualified  his  flagon  from  the 
water  pitcher. 

"  Why,"  said  the  knight,  "  did  you  not  tell  me  that  this 
water  was  from  the  well  of  your  blessed  patron,  St.  Dun- 
stan  ?  " 

"  Ay,  truly,"  said  the  hermit,  "  and  many  a  hundred 
of  pagans  did  he  baptize  there,  but  I  never  heard  that  he 
drank  any  of  it.  Everything  should  be  put  to  its  proper 
use  in  this  world.  St.  Dunstan  knew,  as  well  as  any  one, 
,  the  prerogatives  of  a  jovial  friar." 

And  so  saying,  he  reached  the  harp  and  entertained 

s  guest  with  the  following  characteristic  song,  to  a  sort 
of  ilerry-down  chorus,  appropriate  to  an  old  English 
ditty :  V 


The  Barefooted  Friar. 

I'll  give  thee,  good  fellow,  a  twelvemonth  or  twain, 
To  search  Europe  through,  from  Byzantium  to  Spain ; 
But  ne'er  shall  you  find,  should  you  search  till  you  tire, 
So  happy  a  man  as  the  Barefooted  Friar. 

Your  knight  for  his  lady  pricks  forth  in  career, 

And  is  brought  home  at  evensong  prick' t  through  with  a  spear; 

I  confess  him  in  haste  —  for  his  lady  desires 

No  comfort  on  earth  save  the  Barefooted  Friar's. 

N 


178  IVANHOE. 

Your  monarch  !    Pshaw  !  many  a  prince  has  been  known 

To  barter  his  robes  for  our  cowl  and  our  gown  ; 

But  which  of  us  e'er  felt  the  idle  desire 

To  exchange  for  a  crown  the  grey  hood  of  a  Friar ! 

The  Friar  has  walk'd  out,  and  where'er  he  has  gone, 
The  land  and  its  fatness  is  mark'd  for  his  own ; 
He  can  roam  where  he  lists,  he  can  stop  when  he  tires, 
For  every  man's  house  is  the  Barefooted  Friar's. 

He's  expected  at  noon,  and  no  wight  till  he  comes 
May  profane  the  great  chair,  or  the  porridge  of  plums 
For  the  best  of  the  cheer,  and  the  seat  by  the  fire, 
Is  the  undenied  right  of  the  Barefooted  Friar. 

He's  expected  at  night,  and  the  pasty's  made  hot, 
They  broach  the  brown  ale,  and  they  fill  the  black  pot, 
And  the  good  wife  would  wish  the  goodman  in  the  mire 
Ere  he  lack'd  a  soft  pillow,  the  Barefooted  Friar. 


Long  flourish  the  sandal,  the  cord,  and  the  cope, 
The  dread  of  the  devil  and  trust  of  the  Pope ; 
For  to  gather  life's  roses,  unscathed  by  the  briar, 
Is  granted  alone  to  the  Barefooted  Friar. 


.1 


* . 


/-? 


"  By  my  troth,"  said  the  knight,  "  thou  hast  sung  well, 
and  lustily,  and  in  high  praise  of  thine  order.  And 
talking  of  the  devil,  Holy  Clerk,  are  you  not  afraid  that 
he  may  pay  you  a  visit  during  some  of  your  uncanonical 
pastimes  ?  " 

"  I  uncanonical !  "  answered  the  hermit ;  "  I  scorn  the 
charge  —  I  scorn  it  with  my  heels  !  I  serve  the  duty  of 
my  chapel  duly  and  truly.  Two  masses  daily,  morning 
and  evening,  primes,  noons,  and  vespers,  aves,  credos, 
paters " 

"  Excepting  moonlight  nights,  when  the  venison  is  in 
season,"  said  his  guest. 

"  Exceptis  excipiendis"  replied  the  hermit,  " as  our  old 
jabbot  taught  me  to  say,  when  impertinent  laymen  should 
ask  me  if  I  kept  every  punctilio  of  mine  order." 

"True,  holy  father,"  said  the  knight;  "but  the  devil 
is  apt  to  keep  an  eye  on  such  exceptions ;  he  goes  about, 
thou  knowest,  like  a  roaring  lion." 


IVANHOE.  179 

"  Let  him  roar  here  if  he  dares,"  said  the  Friar ;  "  a 
touch  of  my  cord  will  make  him  roar  as  loud  as  the  tongs 
of  St.  Dunstan  himself  did.  I  never  feared  man,  and  I 
as  little  fear  the  devil  and  his  imps.  St.  Dunstan,  St. 
Dubric,  St.  Winibald,  St.  Winifred,  St.  Swibert,  St.  Wil- 
lick,  not  forgetting  St.  Thomas  of  Kent  and  my  own  poor 
merits  to  speed,  —  I  defy  every  devil  of  them,  come  cut 
and  long  tail.  —  But  to  let  you  into  a  secret,  I  never 
speak  upon  such  subjects,  my  friend,  until  after  morn- 
ing vespers." 

He  changed  the  conversation;  fast  and  furious  grew 
the  mirth  of  the  parties,  and  many  a  song  was  exchanged 
betwixt  them,  when  their  revels  were  interrupted  by  a 
loud  knocking  at  the  door  of  the  hermitage. 

The  occasion  of  this  interruption  we  can  only  explain 
by  resuming  the  adventures  of  another  set  of  our  char- 
acters ;  for,  like  old  Ariosto,  we  do  not  pique  ourselves 
upon  continuing  uniformly  to  keep  company  with  any 
one  personage  of  our  drama. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Away  !  our  journey  lies  through  dell  and  dingle, 
Where  the  blithe  fawn  trips  by  its  timid  mother, 
Where  the  broad  oak,  with  intercepting  boughs, 
Chequers  the  sunbeam  in  the  green-sward  alley  — 
Up  and  away  !  for  lovely  paths  are  these 
To  tread,  when  the  glad  Sun  is  on  his  throne  ; 
Less  pleasant,  and  less  safe,  when  Cynthia's  lamp 
With  doubtful  glimmer  lights  the  dreary  forest. 

Ettrick  Forest. 

When  Cedric  the  Saxon  saw  his  son  drop  down  sense- 
less in  the  lists  at  Ashby,  his  first  impulse  was  to  order 
him  into  the  custody  and  care  of  his  own  attendants ; 
but  the  words  choked  in  his  throat.  He  could  not  bring 
himself  to  acknowledge,  in  presence  of  such  an  assembly, 
the  son  whom  he  had  renounced  and  disinherited.  He 
ordered,  however,  Oswald  to  keep  an  eye  upon  him ;  and 
directed  that  officer,  with  two  of  his  serfs,  to  convey 
Ivanhoe  to  Ashby  as  soon  as  the  crowd  had  dispersed. 


180  IVANHOE. 

Oswald,  however,  was  anticipated  in  this  good  office. 
The  crowd  dispersed,  indeed,  but  the  knight  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Cedric's  cupbearer  looked  around 
for  his  young  master  —  he  saw  the  bloody  spot  on  which 
he  had  lately  sunk  down,  but  himself  he  saw  no  longer ; 
it  seemed  as  if  the  fairies  had  conveyed  him  from  the 
spot.  Perhaps  Oswald  —  for  the  Saxons  were  very  super- 
stitious —  might  have  adopted  some  such  hypothesis  to 
account  for  Ivanhoe's  disappearance,  had  he  not  suddenly 
cast  his  eye  upon  a  person  attired  like  a  squire,  in  whom 
he  recognised  the  features  of  his  fellow-servant  Gurth. 
Anxious  concerning  his  master's  fate,  and  in  despair  at 
his  sudden  disappearance,  the  translated  swineherd  was 
searching  for  him  everywhere,  and  had  neglected,  in 
doing  so,  the  concealment  on  which  his  own  safety  de- 
pended. Oswald  deemed  it  his  duty  to  secure  Gurth,  as 
a  fugitive  of  whose  fate  his  master  was  to  judge. 

Renewing  his  inquiries  concerning  the  fate  of  Ivanhoe, 
the  only  information  which  the  cupbearer  could  collect 
from  the  bystanders  was,  that  the  knight  had  been 
raised  with  care  by  certain  well-attired  grooms,  and 
placed  in  a  litter^  belonging  to  a  lady  among  the  specta- 
tors, which  hadimmediately  transported  him  out  of  the 
press.  Oswald,  on  receiving  this  intelligence,  resolved 
to  return  to  his  master  for  farther  instructions,  carrying 
along  with  him  Gurth,  whom  he  considered  in  some  sort 
as  a  deserter  from  the  service  of  Cedric. 

The  Saxon  had  been  under  very  intense  and  agonising 
apprehensions  concerning  his  son,  for  nature  had  asserted 
her  rights,  in  spite  of  the  patriotic  stoicism  which  laboured 
to  disown  her.  But  no  sooner  was  he  informed  that  Ivan- 
hoe was  in  careful,  and  probably  friendly,  hands  than  the 
paternal  anxiety,  which  had  been  excited  by  the  dubiety 
of  his  fate,  gave  way  anew  to  the  feeling  of  injured  pride 
and  resentment  at  what  he  termed  Wilfred's  filial  dis- 
obedience. "  Let  him  wander  his  way,"  said  he ;  ';  let 
those  leech  his  wounds  for  whose  sake  he  encountered 
them.  He  is  fitter  to  do  the  juggling  tricks  of  the  Nor- 
man  chivalry  than  to  maintain  the  fame  and  honour  of 


IVANHOE.  181 

his  English  ancestry  with  the  glaive  and  brown-bill,  the 
good  old  weapons  of  his  country." 

"  If  to  maintain  the  honour  of  ancestry,"  said  Rowena, 
who  was  present,  "  it  is  sufficient  to  be  wise  in  council 
and  brave  in  execution,  to  be  boldest  among  the  bold, 
and  gentlest  among  the  gentle,  I  know  no  voice,  save 
his  father's " 

"  Be  silent,  Lady  Rowena !  on  this  subject  only  I  hear 
you  not.  Prepare  yourself  for  the  Prince's  festival ;  we 
have  been  summoned  thither  with  unwonted  circumstance 
of  honour  and  of  courtesy,  such  as  the  haughty  Normans 
have  rarely  used  to  our  race  since  the  fatal  day  of  Hast- 
ings. Thither  will  I  go,  were  it  only  to  show  these  proud 
Normans  how  little  the  fate  of  a  son  who  could  defeat 
their  bravest  can  affect  a  Saxon." 

"  Thither,"  said  Rowena,  "  do  I  not  go ;  and  I  pray  you 
to  beware,  lest  what  you  mean  for  courage  and  constancy 
shall  be  accounted  hardness  of  heart." 

"Remain  at  home  then,  ungrateful  lady,"  ansAvered 
Cedric ;  "  thine  is  the  hard  heart,  which  can  sacrifice  the 
weal  of  an  oppressed  people  to  an  idle  and  unauthorised 
attachment.  I  seek  the  noble  Athelstane,  and  with  him 
attend  the  banquet  of  John  of  Anjou." 

He  went  accordingly  to  the  banquet,  of  which  we  have 
already  mentioned  the  principal  events.  Immediately 
upon  retiring  from  the  castle,  the  Saxon  thanes,  with 
their  attendants,  took  horse ;  and  it  was  during  the  bus- 
tle which  attended  their  doing  so  that  Cedric  for  the 
first  time  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  deserter  Gurth.  The 
noble  Saxon  had  returned  from  the  banquet,  as  we  have 
seen,  in  no  very  placid  humour,  and  wanted  but  a  pretext 
^,for  wreaking  his  anger  upon  some  one.  "The  gyves!" 
^he  said  —  "the  gyves!  Oswald  —  Hundebert !  Dogs 
and  villains  !  why  leave  ye  the  knave  unfettered  ?  " 

Without  daring  to  remonstrate,  the  companions  of 
Gurth  bound  him  with  a  Jialter,  ^as  the  readiest  cord 
which  occurred.  He  submitted  £0'  the  operation  without 
remonstrance,  except  that,  darting  a  reproachful  look  at 
his  master,  he  said,  "This  comes  of  loving  your  flesh  and 
blood  better  than  mine  own." 


*3 


182  IVANHOE. 

"  To  horse,  and  forward ! "  said  Cedric. 

"  It  is  indeed  full  time,"  said  the  noble  Athelstane ; 
"  for,  if  we  ride  not  the  faster,  the  worthy  Abbot  Wal- 
theoff's  preparations  for  a  rere-supper  will  be  altogether 
spoiled." 

The  travellers,  however,  used  such  speed  as  to  reach 
the  convent  of  St.  Withold's  before  the  apprehended  evil 
took  place.  The  Abbot,  himself  of  ancient  Saxon  descent, 
received  the  noble  Saxons  with  the  profuse  and  .exuber- 
ant hospitality  of  their  nation,  wherein  they  indulged  to 
a  late,  or  rather  an  early,  hour ;  nor  did  they  take  leave 
of  their  reverend  host  the  next  morning  until  they  had 
shared  with  him  a  sumptuous  refection. ^7^ 

As  the  cavalcade  left  the  court  of  the  monastery,  an 
incident  happened  somewhat  alarming  to  the  Saxons,  who, 
of  all  people  of  Europe,  ever  most  addicted  to  a  super- 
stitious observance  of  omens,  and  to  whose  opinions  can-; 
be  traced  most  of  those  notions  upon  such  subjects,  still 
to  be  found  among  our  popular  antiquities.  For  the 
Normans  being  a  mixed  race  and  better  informed,  accord- 
ing to  the  information  of  the  times,  had  lost  most  of  the 
superstitious  prejudices  which  their  ancestors  had  brought 
from  Scandinavia,  and  piqued  themselves  upon  thinking 
freely  on  such  topics. 

In  the  present  instance,  the  apprehension  of  impend- 
ing evil  was  inspired  by  no  less  respectable  a  prophet 
than  a  large  lean  black  dog,  which,  sitting  upright, 
howled  most  piteously  as  the  foremost  riders  left  the 
gate,  and  presently  afterwards,  barking  wildly,  and  jump- 
ing to  and  fro,  seemed  bent  upon  attaching  itself  to  the 
party. 

"I  like  not  that  music,  father  Cedric,"  said  Athel- 
stane ;  for  by  this  title  of  respect  he  was  accustomed  to 
address  him. 

"Nor  I  either,  uncle,"  said  Wamba;  "I  greatly  fear 
we  shall  have  to  pay  the  piper." 

"  In  my  mind,"  said  Athelstane,  upon  whose  memory 
the  Abbot's  good  ale  (for  Burton  was  already  famous  for 
that  genial  liquor)  had  made  a  favourable  impression  — 
"  in  my  mind  we  had  better  turn  back  and  abide  with 


IVANHOE.  183 

the  Abbot  until  the  afternoon.  It  is  unlucky  to  travel 
where  your  path  is  crossed  by  a  monk,  a  hare,  or  a  howl- 
ing dog,  until  you  have  eaten  your  next  meal." 

"  Away  ! "  said  Cedric,  impatiently ;  "  the  day  is  al- 
ready too  short  for  our  journey.  For  the  dog,  I  know  it 
to  be  the  cur  of  the  runaway  slave  Gurth,  a  useless  fugi- 
tive like  its  master." 

So  saying,  and  rising  at  the  same  time  in  his  stirrups, 
impatient  at  the  interruption  of  his  journey,  he  launched 
his  javelin  at  poor  Fangs ;  for  Fangs  it  was,  who,  having 
traced  his  master  thus  far  upon  his  stolen  expedition, 
had  here  lost  him,  and  was  now,  in  his  uncouth  way, 
rejoicing  at  his  reappearance.  The  javelin  inflicted  a 
wound  upon  the  animal's  shoulder,  and  narrowly  missed 
pinning  him  to  the  earth ;  and  Fangs  fled  howling  from 
the  presence  of  the  enraged  thane.)  ^urth's  heart  swelled 
within  him;  for  he  felt  this  meditated  slaughter  of  his 
faithful  adherent  in  a  degree  much  deeper  than  the  harsh 
treatment  he  had  himself  received.  Having  in  vain  at- 
tempted to  raise  his  hand  to  his  eye,  he  said  to  Wamba, 
who,  seeing  his  master's  ill-humour,  had  prudently  re- 
treated to  the  rear,  "  I  pray  thee,  do  me  the  kindness  to 
wipe  my  eyes  with  the  skirt  of  thy  mantle;  the  dust 
offends  me,  and  these  bonds  will  not  let  me  help  myself 
one  way  or  another." 

Wamba  did  him  the  service  he  required,  and  they  rode 
side  by  side  for  some  time,  during  which  Gurth  main- 
tained a  moody  silence.  At  length  he  could  repress  his 
feelings  no  longer. 

"  Friend  Wamba,"  said  he,  "  of  all  those  who  are  fools 
enough  to  serve  Cedric,  thou  alone  hast  dexterity  enough 
to  make  thy  folly  acceptable  to  him.  Go  to  him,  there- 
fore, and  tell  him  that  neither  for  love  nor  fear  will 
Gurth  serve  him  longer.  He  may  strike  the  head  from 
me — he  may  scourge  me  —  he  may  load  me  with  irons 
—  but  henceforth  he  shall  never  compel  me  either  to  love 
or  to  obey  him.  Go  to  him,  then,  and  tell  him  that 
Gurth,  the  son  of  Beowulph,  renounces  his  service." 

"  Assuredly,"  said  Wamba,  "  fool  as  I  am,  I  shall  not 
do  your  fool's  errand.     Cedric  hath  another  javelin  stuck 


184  I  VAN  HOE. 

into  his  girdle,  and  thou  knowest  he  does  not  always  miss 
his  mark." 

"  I  care  not,"  replied  Gurth,  "  how  soon  he  makes 
a  mark  of  me.  Yesterday  he  left  Wilfred,  my  young 
master,  in  his  blood.  To-day  he  has  striven  to  kill  before 
my  face  the  only  other  living  creature  that  ever  showed 
me  kindness.  By  St.  Edmund,  St.  Dunstan,  St.  Withold, 
St.  Edward  the  Confessor,  and  every  other  Saxon  saint 
in  the  calendar  "  (for  Cedric  never  swore  by  any  that  was 
not  of  Saxon  lineage,  and  all  his  household  had  the  same 
limited  devotion),  "  I  will  never  forgive  him !  " 

"To  my  thinking  now,"  said  the  Jester,  who  was  fre- 
quently wont  to  act  as  peacemaker  in  the  family,  "  our 
master  did  not  propose  to  hurt  Fangs,  but  only  to  affright 
him.  For,  if  you  observed,  he  rose  in  his  stirrups,  as 
thereby  meaning  to  overcast  the  mark ;  and  so  he  woidd 
have  done,  but  Fangs  happening  to  bound  up  at  the  very 
moment,  received  a  scratch,  which  I  will  be  bound  to 
heal  with  a  penny's  breadth  of  tar." 

"If  I  thought  so,"  said  Gurth  —  "if  I  could  but  think 
so;  but  no  —  I  saw  the  javelin  was  well  aimed  —  I  heard 
it  whizz  through  the  air  with  all  the  wrathful  rnalevo-  \ 
lence  of  him  who  cast  it,  and  it  quivered  after  it  had 
pitched  in  the  ground,  as  if  with  regret  for  having  missed 
its  mark.  By  the  hog  dear  to  St.  Anthony,  I  renounce 
him ! " 

And  the  indignant  swineherd  resumed  his  sullen  si- 
lence, which  no  efforts  of  the  Jester  could  again  induce 
him  to  break. 

Meanwhile  Cedric  and  Athelstane,  the  leaders  of  the 
troop,  conversed  together  on  the  state  of  the  land,  on  the 
dissensions  of  the  royal  family,  on  the  feuds  and  quarrels 
among  the  Norman  nobles,  and  on  the  chance  which 
there  was  that  the  oppressed  Saxons  might  be  able  to 
free  themselves  from  the  yoke  of  the  Normans,  or  at 
least  to  elevate  themselves  into  national  consequence  and 
independence,  during  the  civil  convulsions  which  were 
likely  to  ensue.  On  this  subject  Cedric  was  all  anima- 
tion. The  restoration  of  the  independence  of  his  race 
was  the  idol  of  his  heart,  to  which  he  had  willingly  sac- 


IV AN  ROE.  185 

rificed  domestic  happiness  and  the  interests  of  his  own 
son.  But,  in  order  to  achieve  this  great  revolution  in 
favour  of  the  native  English,  it  was  necessary  that  they 
should  be  united  among  themselves,  and  act  under  an 
acknowledged  head.  The  necessity  of  choosing  their 
chief  from  the  Saxon  blood-royal  was  not  only  evident  in 
itself,  but  had  been  made  a  solemn  condition  by  those 
whom  Cedric  had  entrusted  with  his  secret  plans  and 
hopes.  Athelstane  had  this  quality  at  least;  and 
though  he  had  few  mental  accomplishments  or  talents  to 
recommend  him  as  a  leader,  he  had  still  a  goodly  person, 
was  no  coward,  had  been  accustomed  to  martial  exercises, 
and  seemed  willing  to  defer  to  the  advice  of  counsellors/-" 
more  wise  than  himself.  Above  all,  he  was  known  to  be 
liberal  and  hospitable  and  believed  to  be  good-natured. 
But  whatever  pretensions  Athelstane  had  to  be  consid- 
ered as  head  of  the  Saxon  confederacy,  many  of  that 
nation  were  disposed  to  prefer  to  his  the  title  of  the  Lady 
Ilowena,  who  drew  her  descent  from  Alfred,  and  whose 
father  having  been  a  chief  renowned  for  wisdom,  courage, 
and  generosity,  his  memory  was  highly  honoured  by  his 
oppressed  countrymen. 

It  would  have  been  no  difficult  thing  for  Cedric,  had 
he  been  so  disposed,  to  have  placed  himself  at  the  head 
of  a  third  party,  as  formidable  at  least  as  any  of  the 
others.  To  ciuinterbalance  their  royal  descent,  he  had 
courage,  activity,  energy,  and,  above  all,  that  devoted 
attachment  to  the  cause  which  had  procured  him  the 
epithet  of  The  Saxon,  and  his  birth  was  inferior  to  none, 
excepting  only  that  of  Athelstane  and  his  ward.  These 
qualities,  however,  were  unalloyed  by  the  slightest  shade 
of  selfishness ;  and,  instead  of  dividing  yet  further  his 
weakened  nation  by  forming  a  faction  of  his  own,  it  was 
a  leading  part  of  Cedric's  plan  to  extinguish  that  which 
already  existed  by  promoting  a  marriage  betwixt  Rowena 
and  Athelstane.  An  obstacle  occurred  to  this  his  favour- 
ite project  in  the  mutual  attachment  of  his  ward  and  his 
son;  and  hence  the  original  cause  of  the  banishment  of 
Wilfred  from  the  house  of  his  father. 

This  stem  measure  Cedric  had  adopted  in  hopes  that, 


186  IVANHOE. 

during  Wilfred's  absence,  Rowena  might  relinquish  her 
preference ;  but  in  this  hope  he  was  disappointed  —  a 
disappointment  which  might  be  attributed  in  part  to  the 
mode  in  which  his  ward  had  been  educated.  Cedric,  to 
whom  the  name  of  Alfred  was  as  that  of  a  deity,  had 
treated  the  sole  remaining  scion  of  that  great  monarch 
with  a  degree  of  observance  such  as,  perhaps,  was  in 
those  days  scarce  paid  to  an  acknowledged  princess. 
Rowena's  will  had  been  in  almost  all  cases  a  law  to  his 
household;  and  Cedric  himself,  as  if  determined  that  her 
sovereignty  should  be  fully  acknowledged  within  that 
little  circle  at  least,  seemed  to  take  a  pride  in  acting  as 
the  first  of  her  subjects.  Thus  trained  in  the  exercise 
not  only  of  free  will  but  despotic  authority,  Rowena  was, 
by  her  previous  education,  disposed  both  to  resist  and  to 
resent  any  attempt  to  control  her  affections,  or  dispose 
of  her  hand  contrary  to  her  inclinations,  and  to  assert 
her  independence  in  a  case  in  which  even  those  females 
who  have  been  trained  up  to  obedience  and  subjection 
are  not  infrequently  apt  to  dispute  the  authority  of  guar- 
dians and  parents.  The  opinions  which  she  felt  strongly, 
she  avowed  boldly  ;  and  Cedric,  who  could  not  free  him- 
self from  his  habitual  deference  to  her  opinions,  felt 
totally  at  a  loss  how  to  enforce  his  authority  of  guardian. 

It  was  in  vain  that  he  attempted  to  dazzle  her  with  the 
prospect  of  a  visionary  throne.  Rowena,  who  possessed 
strong  sense,  neither  considered  his  plan  as  practicable 
nor  as  desirable,  so  far  as  she  was  concerned,  could  it 
have  been  achieved.  Without  attempting  to  conceal  her 
avowed  preference  of  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe,  she  declared 
that,  were  that  favoured  knight  out  of  question,  she  would 
rather  take  refuge  in  a  convent  than  share  a  throne  with 
Athelstane,  whom,  having  always  despised,  she  now  be- 
gan, on  account  of  the  trouble  she  received  on  his  account, 
thoroughly  tOkdetest.      ,'  ■  <i/*Y'Cc 

Nevertheless,  Cedric,  whose  opinion  of  women's  con- 
stancy was  far  from  strong,  persisted  in  using  every 
means  in  his  power  to  bring  about  the  proposed  match, 
in  which  he  conceived  he  was  rendering  an  important 
service  to  the  Saxon  cause.     The  sudden  and  romantic 


IVANHOE.  187 

appearance  of  his  son  in  the  lists  at  Ashby  he  had  justly- 
regarded  as  almost  a  death's  blow  to  his  hopes.  His 
paternal  affection,  it  is  true,  had  for  an  instant  gained 
the  victory  over  pride  and  patriotism ;  but  both  had  re- 
turned in  full  force,  and  under  their  joint  operation  he 
was  now  bent  upon  making  a  determined  effort  for  the 
union  of  Athelstane  and  Rowena,  together  with  expedit- 
ing those  other  measures  which  seemed  necessary  to  for- 
ward the  restoration  of  Saxon  independence. 

On  this  last  subject  he  was  now  labouring  with  Athel- 
stane, not  without  having  reason,  every  now  and  then, 
to  lament,  like  Hotspur,  that  he  should  have  moved 
such  a  dish  of  skimmed  milk  to  so  honourable  an 
action.  Athelstane,  it  is  true,  was  vain  enough,  and 
loved  to  have  his  ears  tickled  with  tales  of  his  high  de- 
sceDt,  and  of  his  right  by  inheritance  to  homage  and 
sovereignty.  But  his  petty  vanity  was  sufficiently 
gratified  by  receiving  this  homage  at  the  hands  of  his 
immediate  attendants  and  of  the  Saxons  who  approached 
him.  If  he  had  the  courage  to  encounter  danger,  he  at 
least  hated  the  trouble  of  going  to  seek  it ;  and  while  he 
agreed  in  the  general  principles  laid  down  by  Cedric  con- 
cerning the  claim  of  the  Saxons  to  independence,  and  was 
still  more  easily  convinced  of  his  own  title  to  reign  over 
them  when  that  independence  should  be  attained,  yet 
when  the  means  of  asserting  these  rights  came  to  be  dis- 
cussed, he  was  still  Athelstane  the  Unready  —  slow,  ir- 
resolute, procrastinating,  and  unenterprising.  The  warm 
and  impassioned  exhortations  of  Cedric  had  as  little 
effect  upon  his  impassive  temper  as  red-hot  balls  alight- 
ing in  the  water,  which  produce  a  little  sound  and  smoke, 
and  are  instantly  extinguished. 

If,  leaving  this  task,  which  might  be  compared  to  spur- 
ring a  tired  jade,  or  to  hammering  upon  cold  iron,  Cedric 
fell  back  to  his  ward  Rowena,  he  received  little  more  satis- 
faction from  conferring  with  her.  For,  as  his  presence 
interrupted  the  discourse  between  the  lady  and  her  fa- 
vourite attendant  upon  the  gallantry  and  fate  of  Wilfred, 
Elgitha  failed  not  to  revenge  both  her  mistress  and  her- 
self by  recurring  to  the  overthrow  of  Athelstane  in  the 


188  IVANHOE. 

lists,  the  most  disagreeable  subject  which  could  greet  the 
ears  of  Cedric.  To  this  sturdy  Saxon,  therefore,  the  day's 
journey  was  fraught  with  all  manner  of  displeasure  and 
discomfort ;  so  that  he  more  than  once  internally  cursed 
the  tournament,  and  him  who  had  proclaimed  it,  together 
with  his  own  folly  in  ever  thinking  of  going  thither. 

At  noon,  upon  the  motion  of  Athelstane,  the  travellers 
paused  in  a  woodland  shade  by  a  fountain,  to  repose  their 
horses  and  partake  of  some  provisions,  with  which  the 
hospitable  Abbot  had  loaded  a  sumpter  mule.  Their  re- 
past was  a  pretty  long  One ;  and  these  several  interrup- 
tions rendered  it  impossible  for  them  to  hope  to  reach 
Rotherwood  without  travelling  all  night,  a  conviction 
which  induced  them  to  proceed  on  their  way  at  a  more 
hasty  pace  than  they  had  hitherto  used. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

A  train  of  armed  men,  some  noble  dame 
Escorting  (so  their  scattered  words  discover' d, 
As  unperceived  I  hung  upon  their  rear), 
Are  close  at  hand,  and  mean  to  pass  the  night 
Within  the  castle. 

Orra,  a  Tragedy. 

The  travellers  had  now  reached  the  verge  of  the  wooded 
country,  and  were  about  ,to  plunge  into  its  recesses,  held 
dangerous  at  that  time  from  the  number  of  outlaws  whom 
oppression  and  poverty  had  driven  to  despair,  and  who 
occupied  the  forest  in  such  large  bands  as  could  easily 
bid  defiance  to  the  feeble  police  of  the  period.  From 
these  rovers,  however,  notwithstanding  the  lateness  of 
the  hour,  Cedric  and  Athelstane  accounted  themselves 
secure,  as  they  had  in  attendance  ten  servants,  besides 
Wamba  and  G-urth,  whose  aid  could  not  be  counted  upon, 
the  one  being  a  jester  and  the  other  a  captive.  It  may 
be  added,  that  in  travelling  thus  late  through  the  .forest, 
Cedric  and  Athelstane  relied  on  their  descent  and  char- 
acter as  well  as  their  courage.  The  outlaws,  whom  the 
severity  of  the  forest  laws  had  reduced  to  this  roving  and 


IVANHOE.  189 

desperate  mode  of  life,  were  chiefly  peasants  and  yeomen 
of  Saxon  descent,  and  were  generally  supposed  to  respect 
the  persons  and  property  of  their  countrymen. 

As  the  travellers  journeyed  on  their  way,  they  were 
alarmed  by  repeated  cries  for  assistance  ;  and  when  they 
rode  up  to  the  place  from  whence  they  came,  they  were 
surprised  to  find  a  horse-litter  placed  upon  the  ground, 
beside  which  sat  a  young  woman,  richly  dressed  in  the 
Jewish  fashion,  while  an  old  man,  whose  yellow  cap  pro- 
claimed him  to  belong  to  the  same  nation,  walked  up 
and  down  with  gestures  expressive  of  the  deepest  despair, 
and  wrung  his  hands  as  if  affected  by  some  strange 
disaster. 

To  the  inquiries  of  Athelstane  and  Cedric,  the  old  Jew 
could  for  some  time  only  answer  by  invoking  the  protec- 
tion of  all  the  patriarchs  of  the  Old  Testament  succes- 
sively against  the  sons  of  Ishmael,  who  were  coming  to 
smite  them,  hip  and  thigh,  with  the  edge  of  the  sword. 
When  he  began  to  come  to  himself  out  of  this  agony  of 
terror,  Isaac  of  York  (for  it  was  our  old  friend)  was  at 
length  able  to  explain  that  he  had  hired  a  body-guard  of 
six  men  at  Ashby,  together  with  mules  for  carrying  the 
litter  of  a  sick  friend.  This  party  had  undertaken  to  es- 
cort him  as  far  as  Doncaster.  They  had  come  thus  far 
in  safety ;  but,  having  received  information  from  a  wood- 
cutter that  there  was  a  strong  band  of  outlaws  lying  in 
wait  in  the  woods  before  them,  Isaac's  mercenaries  had 
not  only  taken  flight,  but  had  taken  off  with  them  the 
horses  which  bore  the  litter,  and  left  the  Jew  and  his 
daughter  without  the  means  either  of  defence  or  of  re- 
treat, to  be  plundered,  and  probably  murdered,  by  the 
banditti,  whom  they  expected  every  moment  would  bring 
down  upon  them.  "  Would  it  but  please  your  valours,'7 
added  Isaac,  in  a  tone  of  deep  humiliation,  "to  permit 
the  poor  Jews  to  travel  under  your  safeguard,  I  swear  by 
the  tables  of  our  Law  that  never  has  favour  been  con- 
ferred upon  a  child  of  Israel  since  the  days  of  our  cap- 
tivity which  shall  be  more  gratefully  acknowledged." 

"  Dog  of  a  Jew!"  said  Athelstane,  whose  memory  was 
of  that  petty  kind  which  stores  up  trifles  of  all  kinds,  but 


190  IVANHOE. 

particularly  trifling  offences,  "dost  not  remember  how 
thou  didst  beard  us  in  the  gallery  at  the  tilt-yard  ?  Fight 
or  flee,  or  compound  with  the  outlaws  as  thou  dost  list, 
ask  neither  aid  nor  company  from  us ;  and  if  they  rob 
only  such  as  thee,  who  rob  all  the  world,  I,  for  mine  own 
share,  shall  hold  them  right  honest  folk." 

Cedric  did  not  assent  to  the  severe  proposal  of  his  com- 
panion. "  We  shall  do  better,"  said  he,  "  to  leave  them 
two  of  our  attendants  and  two  horses  to  convey  them 
back  to  the  next  village.  It  will  diminish  our  strength 
but  little ;  and  with  your  good  sword,  noble  Athelstane, 
and  the  aid  of  those  who  remain,  it  will  be  light  work  for 
us  to  face  twenty  of  those  runagates." 

Rowena,  somewhat  alarmed  by  the  mention  of  outlaws 
in  force,  and  so  near  them,  strongly  seconded  the  proposal 
of  her  guardian.  But  Rebecca,  suddenly  quitting  her 
dejected  posture,  and  making  her  way  through  the  at- 
tendants to  the  palfrey  of  the  Saxon  lady,  knelt  down, 
and,  after  the  Oriental  fashion  in  addressing  superiors, 
kissed  the  hem  of  Rowena's  garment.  Then,  rising  and 
throwing  back  her  veil,  she  implored  her  in  the  great 
name  of  the  God  whom  they  both  worshipped,  and  by 
that  revelation  of  the  Law  upon  Mount  Sinai  in  which 
they  both  believed,  that  she  would  have  compassion  upon 
them,  and  suffer  them  to  go  forward  under  their  safeguard. 
"  It  is  not  for  myself  that  I  pray  this  favour,"  said  Re- 
becca ;  "  nor  is  it  even  for  that  poor  old  man.  I  know 
that  to  wrong  and  to  spoil  our  nation  is  a  light  fault,  if 
not  a  merit,  with  the  Christians ;  and  what  is  it  to  us 
whether  it  be  done  in  the  city,  in  the  desert,  or  in  the 
field  ?  But  it  is  in  the  name  of  one  dear  to  many,  and 
dear  even  to  you,  that  I  beseech  you  to  let  this  sick  per- 
son be  transported  with  care  and  tenderness  under  your 
protection.  For,  if  evil  chance  him,  the  last  moment  of 
your  life  would  be  embittered  with  regret  for  denying 
that  which  I  ask  of  you." 

The  noble  and  solemn  air  with  which  Rebecca  made 
this  appeal  gave  it  double  weight  with  the  fair  Saxon. 

"  The  man  is  old  and  feeble,"  she  said  to  her  guardian, 
"  the  maiden  young  and  beautiful,  their  friend  sick  and 


1 VANHOE.  191 

in  peril  of  his  life ;  Jews  though  they  be,  we  cannot  as 
Christians  leave  them  in  this  extremity.  Let  them  un- 
load two  of  the  sumpter  mules  and  put  the  baggage  behind 
two  of  the  serfs.  The  mules  may  transport  the  litter,  and 
we  have  led  horses  for  the  old  man  and  his  daughter." 

Cedric  readily  assented  to  what  she  proposed,  and 
Athelstane  only  added  the  condition,  "  That  they  should 
travel  in  the  rear  of  the  whole  party,  where  Wamba,"  he 
said,  "  might  attend  them  with  his  shield  of  boar's  brawn." 

"  I  have  left  my  shield  in  the  tilt-yard,"  answered  the 
Jester,  "  as  has  been  the  fate  of  many  a  better  knight 
than  myself." 

Athelstane  coloured  deeply,  for  such  had  been  his  own 
fate  on  the  last  day  of  the  tournament ;  while  Rowena, 
who  was  pleased  in  the  same  proportion,  as  if  to  make 
amends  for  the  brutal  jest  of  her  unfeeling  suitor,  re- 
quested Rebecca  to  ride  by  her  side. 

"  It  were  not  fit  I  should  do  so,"  answered  Rebecca, 
with  proud  humility,  "  where  my  society  might  be  held  a 
disgrace  to  my  protectress." 

By  this  time  the  change  of  baggage  was  hastily  achieved ; 
for  the  single  word  "  outlaws  "  rendered  every  one  suffi- 
ciently alert,  and  the  approach  of  twilight  made  the  sound 
yet  more  impressive.  Amid  the  bustle,  Gurth  was  taken 
from  horseback,  in  the  course  of  which  removal  he  pre- 
vailed upon  the  Jester  to  slack  the  cord  with  which  his 
arms  were  bound.  It  was  so  negligently  refastened,  per- 
haps intentionally,  on  the  part  of  Wamba,  that  Gurth 
found  no  difficulty  in  freeing  his  arms  altogether  from 
bondage,  and  then,  gliding  into  the  thicket,  he  made  his 
escape  from  the  party. 

The  bustle  had  been  considerable,  and  it  was  some  time 
before  Gurth  was  missed ;  for,  as  he  was  to  be  placed  for 
the  rest  of  the  journey  behind  a  servant,  every  one  sup- 
posed that  some  other  of  his  companions  had  him  under 
his  custody,  and  when  it  began  to  be  whispered  among 
them  that  Gurth  had  actually  disappeared,  they  were 
under  such  immediate  expectation  of  an  attack  from  the 
outlaws  that  it  was  not  held  convenient  to  pay  much  at- 
tention to  the  circumstance. 


dr; 
•  c    ch 


192  I  VAN  HOE. 

The  path  upon  which  the  party  travelled  was  now  so 
narrow  as  not  to  admit,  with  any  sort  of  convenience, 
above  two  riders  abreast,  and  began  to  descend  into  a 
dingle,  traversed  by  a  brook  whose  banks  were  broken, 
swampy,  and  overgrown  with  dwarf  willows.  Cedric  and 
Athelstane,  who  were  at  the  head  of  their  retinue,  saw 
the  risk  of  being  attacked  at  this  pass ;  but  neither  of 
them  having  had  much  practice  in  war,  no  better  mode 
of  preventing  the  danger  occurred  to  them  than  that  they 
should  hasten  through  the  defile  as  fast  as  possible.  Ad- 
vancing, therefore,  without  much  order,  they  had  just 
crossed  the  brook  with  a  part  of  their  followers,  when 
they  were  assailed  in  front,  flank,  and  rear  at  once,  with 
an  impetuosity  to  which,  in  their  confused  and  ill-pre- 
pared condition,  it  was  impossible  to  offer  effectual  re- 
sistance. The  shout  of  "A  white  dragon!  —  a  white 
dragon!  —  St.    George   for   merry    England !  "    war-cries 

lopted  by  the  assailants,  as  belonging  to  their  assumed 

aracter  of  Saxon  outlaws,  was  heard  on  every  side, 
and  on  every  side  enemies  appeared  with  a  rapidity 
of  advance  and  attack  which  seemed  to  multiply  their 
numbers. 

Both  the  Saxon  chiefs  were  made  prisoners  at  the  same 
moment,  and  each  under  circumstances  expressive  of  his 
character.  Cedric,  the  instant  that  an  enemy  appeared, 
launched  at  him  his  remaining  javelin,  which,  taking  bet- 
ter effect  than  that  which  he  had  hurled  at  Fangs,  nailed 
the  man  against  an  oak  tree  that  happened  to  be  close  be- 
hind him.  Thus  far  successful,  Cedric  spurred  his  horse 
against  a  second,  drawing  his  sword  at  the  same  time, 
and  striking  with  such  inconsiderate  fury  that  his  weapon 
encountered  a  thick  branch  which  hung  over  him,  and  he 
was  disarmed  by  the  violence  of  his  own  blow.  lie  was 
instantly  made  prisoner,  and  pulled  from  his  horse  by 
two  or  three  of  the  banditti  who  crowded  around  him. 
Athelstane  shared  his  captivity,  liis  bridle  having  been 
seized  and  lie  himself  forcibly  dismounted  long  before  he 
could  draw  his  weapon  or  assume  any  posture  of  effectual 
defence. 

The  attendants,  embarrassed  with  baggage,  surprised 


</  ■' 


,'/^ 


*jF^e.    cos    insfanllv     rr„scAe-    prisoner. 

drxrl     foo'ied    -frxim    kis    korsfc-) 


IVANHOE.  193 

and  terrified  at  the  fate  of  their  masters,  fell  an  easy  prey- 
to  the  assailants ;  while  the  Lady  Rowena,  in  the  centre 
of  the  cavalcade,  and  the  Jew  and  his  daughter  in  the 
rear,  experienced  the  same  misfortune. 

Of  all  the  train  none  escaped  except  Wamba,  who 
showed  upon  the  occasion  much  more  courage  than  those 
who  pretended  to  greater  sense.  He  possessed  himself 
of  a  sword  belonging  to  one  of  the  domestics,  who  was 
just  drawing  it  with  a  tardy  and  irresolute  hand,  laid  it 
about  him  like  a  lion,  drove  back  several  who  approached 
him,  and  made  a  brave  though  ineffectual  attempt  to 
succour  his  master.  Finding  himself  overpowered,  the 
Jester  at  length  threw  himself  from  his  horse,  plunged 
into  the  thicket,  and,  favoured  by  the  general  confusion, 
escaped  from  the  scene  of  action. 

Yet  the  valiant  Jester,  as  soon  as  he  found  himself 
safe,  hesitated  more  than  once  whether  he  should  not  turn 
back  and  share  the  captivity  of  a  master  to  whom  he  was 
sincerely  attached. 

"  I  have  heard  men  talk  of  the  blessings  of  freedom," 
he  said  to  himself,  "  but  I  wish  any  wise  man  would 
teach  me  what  use  to  make  of  it  now  that  I  have  it." 

As  he  pronounced  these  words  aloud,  a  voice  very  near 
him  called  out  in  a  low  and  cautious  tone,  "  Wamba ! " 
and  at  the  same  time  a  dog,  which  he  recognised  to  be 
Fangs,  jumped  up  and  fawned  upon  him.  "  G-urth  !  " 
answered  Wamba  with  the  same  caution,  and  the  swine- 
herd immediately  stood  before  him. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  said  he,  eagerly ;  "  what  mean 
these  cries  and  that  clashing  of  swords  ?  " 

"Only  a  trick  of  the  times,"  said  Wamba;  "they  are 
all  prisoners." 

"  Who  are  prisoners  ?"  exclaimed  Gurth,  impatiently. 

"  My  lord,  and  my  lady,  and  Athelstane,  and  Hunde- 
bert  and  Oswald." 

"  In  the  name  of  G-od ! "  said  Gurth,  "  how  came  they 
prisoners  ?  —  and  to  whom  ?  " 

"  Our  master  was  too  ready  to  fight,"  said  the  Jester, 
"and  Athelstane  was  not  ready  enough,  and  no  other 
person  was  ready   at  all.     And   they  are   prisoners   to 


194  IVANHOE. 

green  cassocks  and  black  visors.  And  they  lie  all  tum- 
bled about  on  the  green,  like  the  crab-apples  that  you 
shake  down  to  your  swine.  And  I  would  laugh  at  it," 
said  the  honest  Jester,  "if  I  could  for  weeping."  And 
he  shed  tears  of  unfeigned  sorrow. 

Gurth's  countenance  kindled.  "Wamba,"  he  said, 
"  thou  hast  a  weapon,  and  thy  heart  was  ever  stronger 
than  thy  brain;  we  are  only  two  —  but  a  sudden  attack 
from  men  of  resolution  will  do  much  —  follow  me  !  " 

"  Whither  ?  and  for  what  purpose  ?  "  said  the  Jester. 

"  To  rescue  Cedric." 

"But  you  have  renounced  his  service  but  now,"  said 
Wamba. 

"  That,"  said  Gurth,  "  was  but  while  he  was  fortunate ; 
follow  me  ! " 

As  the  Jester  was  about  to  obey,  a  third  person  sud- 
denly made  his  appearance  and  commanded  them  both 
to  halt.  From  his  dress  and  arms,  Wamba  would  have 
conjectured  him  to  be  one  of  those  outlaws  who  had  just 
assailed  his  master ;  but,  besides  that  he  wore  no  mask, 
the  glittering  baldric  across  his  shoulder,  with  the  rich 
bugle-horn  which  it  supported,  as  well  as  the  calm  and 
commanding  expression  of  his  voice  and  manner,  made 
him,  notwithstanding  the  twilight,  recognise  Locksley, 
the  yeoman  who  had  been  victorious,  under  such  disad- 
vantageous circumstances,  in  the  contest  for  the  prize  of 
archery. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this,"  said  he,  "  or  who 
is  it  that  rifle,  and  ransom,  and  make  prisoners  in  these 
forests  ?  " 

"  You  may  look  at  their  cassocks  close  by,"  said 
Wamba,  "and  see  whether  they  be  thy  children's  coats 
or  no  —  for  they  are  as  like  thine  own  as  one  green  pea- 
.cod  is  to  another." 

"  I  will  learn  that  presently,"  answered  Locksley ; 
"  and  I  charge  ye,  on  peril  of  your  lives,  not  to  stir  from 
the  place  where  ye  stand,  until  I  have  returned.  Obey 
me,  and  it  shall  be  the  better  for  you  and  your  masters. 
—  Yet  stay,  I  must  render  myself  as  like  these  men  as 
possible." 


IVANHOE.  195 

So  saying,  he  unbuckled  his  baldric  with  the  bugle, 
took  a  feather  from  his  cap,  and  gave  them  to  Wamba ; 
then  drew  a  vizard  from  his  pouch,  and  repeating  his 
charges  to  them  to  stand  fast,  went  to  execute  his  pur- 
pose of  reconnoitring. 

"  Shall  we  stand  fast,  Gurth  ?  "  said  Wamba,  "  or  shall 
we  e'en  give  him  leg-bail  ?  In  my  foolish  mind,  he  had 
all  the  equipage  of  a  thief  too  much  in  readiness  to  be 
himself  a  true  man." 

"Let  him  be  the  devil,"  said  Gurth,  "an  he  will.  We 
can  be  no  worse  of  waiting  his  return.  If  he  belong  to 
that  party,  he  must  already  have  given  them  the  alarm, 
and  it  will  avail  nothing  either  to  fight  or  fly.  Besides, 
I  have  late  experience  that  arrant  thieves  are  not  the 
worst  men  in  the  world  to  have  to  deal  with." 

The  yeoman  returned  in  the  course  of  a  few  minutes. 

"  Friend  Gurth,"  he  said,  "  I  have  mingled  among  yon 
men,  and  have  learnt  to  whom  they  belong,  and  whither 
they  are  bound.  There  is,  I  think,  no  chance  that  they 
will  proceed  to  any  actual  violence  against  their  pris- 
oners. For  three  men  to  attempt  them  at  this  moment 
were  little  else  than  madness ;  for  they  are  good  men  of 
war,  and  have,  as  such,  placed  sentinels  to  give  the  alarm 
when  any  one  approaches.  But  I  trust  soon  to  gather 
such  a  force  as  may  act  in  defiance  of  all  their  precau- 
tions. You  are  both  servants,  and,  as  I  think,  faithful 
servants,  of  Cedric  the  Saxon,  the  friend  of  the  rights  of 
Englishmen.  He  shall  not  want  English  hands  to  help 
him  in  this  extremity.  Come,  then,  with  me,  until  I 
gather  more  aid." 

So  saying,  he  walked  through  the  wood  at  a  great 
pace,  followed  by  the  Jester  and  the  swineherd.  It  was 
not  consistent  with  Wamba' s  humour  to  travel  long  in 
silence. 

"  I  think,"  said  he,  looking  at  the  baldric  and  bugle 
which  he  still  carried,  "  that  I  saw  the  arrow  shot 
which  won  this  gay  prize,  and  that  not  so  long  since  as 
Christmas." 

"And  I,"  said  Gurth,  "could  take  it  on  my  halidome 
that  I  have  heard  the  voice  of  the  good  yeoman  who 


196  IVANHOE. 

won  it,  by  night  as  well  as  by  day,  and  that  the  moon  is 
not  three  days  older  since  I  did  so." 

"  Mine  honest  friends,"  replied  the  yeoman,  "  who  or 
what  I  am  is  little  to  the  present  purpose ;  should  I  free 
your  master,  you  will  have  reason  to  think  me  the  best 
friend  you  have  ever  had  in  your  lives.  And  whether  I 
am  known  by  one  name  or  another,  or  whether  I  can 
draw  a  bow  as  well  or  better  than  a  cow-keeper,  or 
whether  it  is  my  pleasure  to  walk  in  sunshine  or  by 
moonlight,  are  matters  which,  as  they  do  not  concern 
you,  so  neither  need  ye  busy  yourselves  respecting  them." 

"  Our  heads  are  in  the  lion's  mouth,"  said  Wamba,  in 
a  whisper  to  Gurth,  "  get  them  out  how  we  can." 

"  Hush  —  be  silent,"  said  Gurth.  "  Offend  him  not  by 
thy  folly,  and  I  trust  sincerely  that  all  will  go  well." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

When  autumn  nights  were  long  and  drear, 
And  forest  walks  were  dark  and  dim, 

How  sweetly  on  the  pilgrim's  ear 
Was  wont  to  steal  the  hermit's  hymn  ! 

Devotion  borrows  Music's  tone, 

And  Music  took  Devotion's  wing  ; 
And,  like  the  bird  that  hails  the  sun, 

They  soar  to  heaven,  and  soaring  sing. 

The  Hermit  of  St.  Clement'1  s  Well. 

It  was  after  three  hours'  good  walking  that  the  ser- 
vants of  Cedric,  with  their  mysterious  guide,  arrived  at 
a  small  opening  in  the  forest,  in  the  centre  of  which 
grew  an  oak  tree  of  enormous  magnitude,  throwing  its 
twisted  branches  in  every  direction.  Beneath  this  tree 
four  or  five  yeomen  lay  stretched  on  the  ground,  while 
another,  as  sentinel,  walked  to  and  fro  in  the  moonlight 
shade. 

Upon  hearing  the  sound  of  feet  approaching,  the  watch 
instantly  gave  the  alarm,  and  the  sleepers  as  suddenly 
started  up  and  bent  their  bows.     Six  arrows  placed  on 


IVANHOE.  197 

the  string  were  pointed  towards  the  quarter  from  which 
the  travellers  approached,  when  their  guide,  being  recog- 
nised, was  welcomed  with  every  token  of  respect  and 
attachment,  and  all  signs  and  fears  of  a  rough  reception 
at  once  subsided. 

"  Where  is  the  Miller  ?  "  was  his  first  question. 

"  On  the  road  towards  Rotherham." 

"  With  how  many  ? "  demanded  the  leader,  for  such 
he  seemed  to  be. 

"  With  six  men,  and  good  hope  of  booty,  if  it  please 
St.  Nicholas." 

"  Devoutly  spoken,"  said  Locksley ;  "  and  where  is 
Allan-a-Dale  ?  " 

"  Walked  up  towards  the  Watling  Street  to  watch  for 
the  Prior  of  Jorvaulx." 

"  That  is  well  thought  on  also,"  replied  the  Captain  ; 
"  and  where  is  the  Friar  ?  " 

"  In  his  cell." 

"Thither  will  I  go,"  said  Locksley.  "Disperse  and 
seek  your  companions.  Collect  what  force  you  can,  for 
there's  game  afoot  that  must  be  hunted  hard,  and  will 
turn  to  bay.  Meet  me  here  by  daybreak.  —  And,  stay," 
he  added,  "  I  have  forgotten  what  is  most  necessary  of 
the  whole.  —  Two  of  you  take  the  road  quickly  towards 
Torquilstone,  the  castle  of  Front-de-Boeuf.  A  set  of 
gallants,  who  have  been  masquerading  in  such  guise  as 
our  own,  are  carrying  a  band  of  prisoners  thither. — 
Watch  them  closely,  for  even  if  they  reach  the  castle 
before  we  collect  our  force,  our  honour  is  concerned  to 
punish  them,  and  we  will  find  means  to  do  so.  Keep  a 
close  watch  on  them,  therefore ;  and  despatch  one  of 
your  comrades,  the  lightest  of  foot,  to  bring  the  news  of 
the  yeomen  thereabout." 

They  promised  implicit  obedience,  and  departed  with 
alacrity  on  their  different  errands.  In  the  meanwhile, 
their  leader  and  his  two  companions,  who  now  looked 
upon  him  with  great  respect,  as  well  as  some  fear,  pur- 
sued their  way  to  the  chapel  of  Copmanhurst. 

When  they  reached  the  little  moonlight  glade,  having 
in  front  the  reverend  though  ruinous  chapel  and  the  rude 


198  IVANHOE. 

hermitage,  so  well  suited  to  ascetic  devotion,  Wamba 
whispered  to  Gurth,  "  If  this  be  the  habitation  of  a  thief, 
it  makes  good  the  old  proverb,  'The  nearer  the  church  the 
farther  from  God.'  —  And  by  my  cockscomb,"  he  added, 
"  I  think  it  be  even  so.  Hearken  but  to  the  black  sanc- 
tus  which  they  are  singing  in  the  hermitage  !  " 

In  fact,  the  anchorite  and  his  guest  were  performing, 
at  the  full  extent  of  their  very  powerful  lungs,  an  old 
drinking  song,  of  which  this  was  the  burden : 

'  Come,  trowl  the  brown  bowl  to  me, 

Bully  boy,  bully  boy, 
Come,  trowl  the  brown  bowl  to  me. 

Ho  !  jolly  Jenkin,  I  spy  a  knave  in  drinking, 
Come,  trowl  the  brown  bowl  to  me.' 

"  Now,  that  is  not  ill  sung,"  said  Wamba,  who  had 
thrown  in  a  few  of  his  own  nourishes  to  help  out  the 
chorus.  "  But  who,  in  the  saint's  name,  ever  expected 
to  have  heard  such  a  jolly  chant  come  from  out  a  hermit's 
cell  at  midnight !  " 

'•Marry,  that  should  I,"  said  Gurth,  "for  the  jolly 
Clerk  of  Copmanhurst  is  a  known  man,  and  kills  half  the 
deer  that  are  stolen  in  this  walk.  Men  say  that  the 
keeper  has  complained  to  his  official,  and  that  he  will  be 
stripped  of  his  cowl  and  cope  altogether  if  he  keep  not 
better  order." 

While  they  were  thus  ,speaking,  Locksley's  loud  and 
repeated  knocks  had  at  length  disturbed  the  anchorite 
and  his  guest.  "  By  my  beads,"  said  the  hermit,  stop- 
ping short  in  a  grand  nourish,  "  here  come  more  benighted 
guests.  I  would  not  for  my  cowl  that  they  found  us  in 
this  goodly  exercise.  All  men  have  their  enemies,  good 
Sir  Sluggard ;  and  there  be  those  malignant  enough  to 
construe  the  hospitable  refreshment  which  I  have  been 
offering  to  you,  a  weary  traveller,  for  the  matter  of  three 
short  hours,  into  sheer  drunkenness  and  debauchery, 
vices  alike  alien  to  my  profession  and  my  disposition." 

"Base  calumniators  !  "  replied  the  knight;  "I  would  I 
had  the  chastising  of  them.  Nevertheless,  Holy  Clerk, 
it  is  true  that  all  have  their  enemies  ;  and  there  be  those 


I  VAN  HOE.  199 

in  this  very  land  whom  I  would  rather  speak  to  through 
the  bars  of  my  helmet  than  barefaced." 

"  Get  thine  iron  pot  on  thy  head  then,  friend  Sluggard, 
as  quickly  as  thy  nature  will  permit,"  said  the  hermit, 
"  while  I  remove  these  pewter  flagons,  whose  late  contents 
run  strangely  in  mine  own  pate  ;  and  to  drown  the  clatter 
—  for,  in  faith,  I  feel  somewhat  unsteady  —  strike  into 
the  tune  which  thou  hearest  me  sing.  It  is  no  matter 
for  the  words;  I  scarce  know  them  myself." 

So  saying,  he  struck  up  a  thundering  De  profundis  cla- 
mavi,  under  cover  of  which  he  removed  the  apparatus  of 
their  banquet;  while  the  knight,  laughing  heartily,  and 
arming  himself  all  the  while,  assisted  his  host  with  his 
voice  from  time  to  time  as  his  mirth  permitted. 

"  What  devil's  matins  are  you  after  at  this  hour  ? " 
said  a  voice  from  without. 

"  Heaven  forgive  you.  Sir  Traveller !  "  said  the  hermit, 
whose  own  noise,  and  perhaps  his  nocturnal  potations,  pre- 
vented from  recognising  accents  which  were  tolerably 
familiar  to  him.  —  -  Wend  on  your  way,  in  the  name  of 
God  and  St.  Dunstan,  and  disturb  not  the  devotions  of 
me  and  my  holy  brother." 

"  Mad  priest,"  answered  the  voice  from  without,  "  open 
to  Locksley ! " 

"  All's  safe  —  all's  right,"  said  the  hermit  to  his  com- 
panion. 

"  But  who  is  he  ? "  said  the  Black  Knight ;  "  it  im- 
ports me  much  to  know." 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  answered  the  hermit ;  "  I  tell  thee  he 
is  a  friend." 

"But  what  friend?"  answered  the  knight;  "for  he 
may  be  friend  to  thee  and  none  of  mine." 

"  What  friend ! "  replied  the  hermit ;  "  that,  now,  is 
one  of  the  questions  that  is  more  easily  asked  than  an- 
swered. What  friend  !  —  why,  he  is,  now  that  I  bethink 
me  a  little,  the  very  same  honest  keeper  I  told  thee  of  a 
while  since." 

"  Ay,  as  honest  a  keeper  as  thou  art  a  pious  hermit," 
replied  the  knight,  "  I  doubt  it  not.  But  undo  the  door 
to  him  before  he  beat  it  from  its  hinges," 


200  IVANHOE. 

The  dogs,  in  the  meantime,  which  had  made  a  dreadful 
baying  at  the  commencement  of  the  disturbance,  seemed 
now  to  recognise  the  voice  of  him  who  stood  without; 
for,  totally  changing  their  manner,  they  scratched  and 
whined  at  the  door,  as  if  interceding  for  his  admission. 
The  hermit  speedily  unbolted  his  portal,  and  admitted 
Locksley,  with  his  two  companions. 

"  Why,  hermit,"  was  the  yeoman's  first  question  as 
soon  as  he  beheld  the  knight,  "what  boon  companion 
hast  thou  here  ?  " 

"A  brother  of  our  order,"  replied  the  Friar,  shaking 
his  head;  "we  have  been  at  our  orisons  all  night." 

"  He  is  a  monk  of  the  church  militant,  I  think,"  an- 
swered Locksley ;  "  and  there  be  more  of  them  abroad. 
I  tell  thee,  Friar,  thou  must  lay  down  the  rosary  and 
take  up  the  quarter-staff ;  we  shall  need  every  one  of  our 
merry  men,  whether  clerk  or  layman.  But,"  he  added, 
taking  him  a  step  aside,  "  art  thou  mad  ?  to  give  admit- 
tance to  a  knight  thou  dost  not  know  ?  Hast  thou  for- 
got our  articles  ?  " 

"  Not  know  him  !  "  replied  the  Friar,  boldly,  "  I  know 
him  as  well  as  the  beggar  knows  his  dish." 

"  And  what  is  his  name,  then  ?  "  demanded  Locksley. 

"  His  name,"  said  the  hermit  —  "  his  name  is  Sir  An- 
thony of  Scrabelstone ;  as  if  I  would  drink  with  a  man, 
and  did  not  know  his  name  !  " 

"Thou  hast  been  drinking  more  than  enough,  Friar," 
said  the  woodsman,  "and,  I  fear,  prating  more  than 
enough  too." 

"  Good  yeoman,"  said  the  knight,  coming  forward,  "  be 
not  wroth  with  my  merry  host.  He  did  but  afford  me 
the  hospitality  which  I  would  have  compelled  from  him 
if  he  had  refused  it." 

"  Thou  compel !  "  said  the  Friar ;  "  wait  but  till  I  have 
changed  this  grey  gown  for  a  green  cassock,  and  if  I 
make  not  a  quarter-staff  ring  twelve  upon  thy  pate,  I  am 
neither  true  clerk  nor  good  woodsman." 

While  he  spoke  thus,  he  stript  off  his  gown,  and  ap- 
peared in  a  close  black  buckram  doublet  and  drawers, 
over  which  he  speedily  did  on  a  cassock  of  green  and 


IVANHOE.  201 

hose  of  the  same  colour.  "  I  pray  thee,  truss  my  points," 
said  he  to  Wamba,  "  and  thou  shalt  have  a  cup  of  sack 
for  thy  labour." 

"  Gramercy  for  thy  sack,"  said  Wamba ;  "  but  think'st 
thou  it  is  lawful  for  me  to  aid  you  to  transmew  thyself 
from  a  holy  hermit  into  a  sinful  forester  ?  " 

"  Never  fear,"  said  the  hermit  j  "  I  will  but  confess  the 
sins  of  my  green  cloak  to  my  grey  friar's  frock,  and  all 
shall  be  well  again." 

"  Amen !  "  answered  the  Jester.  "  A  broadcloth  peni- 
tent should  have  a  sackcloth  confessor,  and  your  frock 
may  absolve  my  motley  doublet  into  the  bargain." 

So  saying,  he  accommodated  the  Friar  with  his  assist- 
ance in  tying  the  endless  number  of  points,  as  the  laces 
which  attached  the  hose  to  the  doublet  were  then  termed. 

While  they  were  thus  employed,  Locksley  led  the 
knight  a  little  apart,  and  addressed  him  thus  :  "  Deny  it 
not,  Sir  Knight,  you  are  he  who  decided  the  victory  to 
the  advantage  of  the  English  against  the  strangers  on 
the  second  day  of  the  tournament  at  Ashby." 

"  And  what  follows  if  you  guess  truly,  good  yeoman  ?  " 
replied  the  knight. 

"I  should  in  that  case  hold  you,"  replied  the  yeoman, 
"  a  friend  to  the  weaker  party." 

"  Such  is  the  duty  of  a  true  knight  at  least,"  replied 
the  Black  Champion  ;  "  and  I  would  not  willingly  that 
there  were  reason  to  think  otherwise  of  me." 

"  But  for  my  purpose,"  said  the  yeoman,  "  thou  shouldst 
be  as  well  a  good  Englishman  as  a  good  knight ;  for  that 
which  I  have  to  speak  of  concerns,  indeed,  the  duty  of 
every  honest  man,  but  is  more  especially  that  of  a  true- 
born  native  of  England." 

"  You  can  speak  to  no  one,"  replied  the  knight,  "  to 
whom  England,  and  the  life  of  every  Englishman,  can  be 
dearer  than  to  me." 

"I  would  willingly  believe  so,"  said  the  woodsman, 
"  for  never  had  this  country  such  need  to  be  supported 
by  those  who  love  her.  Hear  me,  and  I  will  tell  thee  of 
an  enterprise  in  which,  if  thou  be'st  really  that  which 
thou  seemest,  thou  mayst  take  an  honourable  part.     A 


202  IVANHOE. 

band  of  villains,  in  the  disguise  of  better  men  than  them- 
selves, have  made  themselves  master  of  the  person  of  a 
noble  Englishman,  called  Cedric  the  Saxon,  together  with 
his  ward,  and  his  friend  Athelstane  of  Coningsburgh,  and 
have  transported  them  to  a  castle  in  this  forest,  called 
Torquilstone.  I  ask  of  thee,  as  a  good  knight  and  a  good 
Englishman,  wilt  thou  aid  in  their  rescue  ?  " 

"  I  am  bound  by  my  vow  to  do  so,"  replied  the  knight ; 
"  but  I  would  willingly  know  who  you  are,  who  request 
my  assistance  in  their  behalf  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  said  the  forester,  "  a  nameless  man ;  but  I  am 
the  friend  of  my  country,  and  of  my  country's  friends.  — 
With  this  account  of  me  you  must  for  the  present  re- 
main satisfied,  the  more  especially  since  you  yourself  de- 
sire to  continue  unknown.  Believe,  however,  that  my 
word,  when  pledged,  is  as  inviolate  as  if  I  wore  golden 
spurs." 

"  I  willingly  believe  it,"  said  the  knight ;  "  I  have  been 
accustomed  to  study  men's  countenances,  and  I  can  read 
in  thine  honesty  and  resolution.  I  will,  therefore,  ask 
thee  no  further  questions,  but  aid  thee  in  setting  at  free- 
dom these  oppressed  captives  ;  which  done,  I  trust  we 
shall  part  better  acquainted,  and  well  satisfied  with  each 
other." 

"  So,"  said  Wamba  to  Grirth,  —  for  the  Friar  being  now 
fully  equipped,  the  Jester,  having  approached  to  the  other 
side  of  the  hut,  had  heard  the  conclusion  of  the  con- 
versation —  "  so  we  have  got  a  new  ally  ?  I  trust  the 
valour  of  the  knight  will  be  truer  metal  than  the  religion 
of  the  hermit  or  the  honesty  of  the  yeoman ;  for  this 
Locksley  looks  like  a  born  deer-stealer,  and  the  priest 
like  a  lusty  hypocrite." 

"  Hold  thy  peace,  Wamba,"  said  G-urth ;  "  it  may  all 
be  as  thou  dost  guess ;  but  were  the  horned  devil  to  rise 
and  proffer  me  his  assistance  to  set  at  liberty  Cedric  and 
the  Lady  Rowena,  I  fear  I  should  hardly  have  religion 
enough  to  refuse  the  foul  fiend's  otter,  and  bid  him  get 
behind  me." 

The  Friar  was  now  completely  accoutred  as  a  yeoman, 
with  sword  and  buckler,  bow  and  quiver,  and  a  strong 


IVANHOE.  203 

partisan  over  his  shoulder.  He  left  his  cell  at  the  head 
of  the  party,  and,  having  carefully  locked  the  door,  de- 
posited the  key  under  the  threshold. 

"  Art  thou  in  condition  to  do  good  service,  Friar,"  said 
Locksley,  "or  does  the  brown  bowl  still  run  in  thy 
head  ?  " 

"Not  more  than  a  draught  of  St.  Dunstan's  fountain 
will  allay,"  answered  the  priest ;  "  something  there  is  of 
a  whizzing  in  my  brain,  and  of  instability  in  my  legs,  but 
you  shall  presently  see  both  pass  away." 

So  saying,  he  stepped  to  the  stone  basin,  in  which  the 
waters  of  the  fountain  as  they  fell  formed  bubbles  which 
danced  in  the  white  moonlight,  and  took  so  long  a  draught 
as  if  he  had  meant  to  exhaust  the  spring. 

"  When  didst  thou  drink  as  deep  a  draught  of  water 
before,  Holy  Clerk  of  Copmanhurst  ?  "  said  the  Black 
Knight. 

"Never  since  my  wine  butt  leaked,  and  let  out  its 
liquor  by  an  illegal  vent,"  replied  the  Friar,  "and  so 
left  me  nothing  to  drink  but  my  patron's  bounty  here." 

Then  plunging  his  hands  and  head  into  the  foun- 
tain, he  washed  from  them  all  marks  of  the  midnight 
revel. 

Thus  refreshed  and  sobered,  the  jolly  priest  twirled 
his  heavy  partisan  round  his  head  with  three  fingers,  as 
if  he  had  been  balancing  a  reed,  exclaiming  at  the  same 
time,  "Where  be  those  false  ravishers  who  carry  off 
wenches  against  their  will  ?  May  the  foul  fiend  fly  off 
with  me,  if  I  am  not  man  enough  for  a  dozen  of  them." 

"  Swearest  thou,  Holy  Clerk  ?  "  said  the  Black  Knight. 

"  Clerk  me  no  clerks,"  replied  the  transformed  priest ; 
"  by  St.  George  and  the  Dragon,  I  am  no  longer  a  shave- 
ling than  while  my  frock  is  on  my  back.  —  Wlien  I  am 
cased  in  my  green  cassock,  I  will  drink,  swear,  and  woo 
a  lass  with  any  blythe  forester  in  the  West  Biding." 

"  Come  on,  Jack  Priest,"  said  Locksley,  "  and  be 
silent;  thou  art  as  noisy  as  a  whole  convent  on  a  holy 
eve,  when  the  Father  Abbot  has  gone  to  bed.  —  Come  on 
you,  too,  my  masters,  tarry  not  to  talk  of  it  —  I  say, 
come  on ;  we  must  collect  all  our  f orces,  and  few  enough 


204  IVANHOE. 

we  shall  have,  if  we  are  to  storm  the  castle  of  Reginald 
Front-de-Boeuf." 

"  What !  is  it  Front-de-Boeuf,"  said  the  Black  Knight, 
"  who  has  stopt  on  the  king's  highway  the  king's  liege 
subjects  ?  —  Is  he  turned  thief  and  oppressor  ?  " 

"  Oppressor  he  ever  was,"  said  Locksley. 

"And  for  thief,"  said  the  priest,  "I  doubt  if  ever  he 
were  even  half  so  honest  a  man  as  many  a  thief  of  my 
acquaintance." 

"  Move  on,  priest,  and  be  silent,"  said  the  yeoman  ;  "  it 
were  better  you  led  the  way  to  the  place  of  rendezvous 
than  say  what  should  be  left  unsaid,  both  in  decency  and 
prudence." 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

Alas,  how  many  hours  and  years  have  past, 
Since  human  forms  have  round  this  table  sate, 
Or  lamp,  or  taper,  on  its  surface  gleam' d ! 
Methinks,  I  hear  the  sound  of  time  long  pass'd 
Still  murmuring  o'er  us,  in  the  lofty  void 
Of  these  dark  arches,  like  the  ling'ring  voices 
Of  those  who  long  within  their  graves  have  slept. 

Orra,  a  Tragedy. 

While  these  measures  were  taking  in  behalf  of  Cedric 
and  his  companions,  the  armed  men  by  whom  the  latter 
had  been  seized,  hurried  their  captives  along  towards  the 
place  of  security  where  ftiey  intended  to  imprison  them. 
But  darkness  came  on  fast,  and  the  paths  of  the  wood 
seemed  but  imperfectly  known  to  the  marauders.  They 
were  compelled  to  make  several  long  halts,  and  once 
or  twice  to  return  on  their  road  to  resume  the  direc- 
tion which  they  wished  to  pursue.  The  summer  morn 
had  dawned  upon  them  ere  they  could  travel  in  full 
assurance  that  they  held  the  right  path.  But  confidence 
returned  with  light,  and  the  cavalcade  now  moved  rapidly 
forward.  Meanwhile,  the  following  dialogue  took  place 
between  the  two  leaders  of  the  banditti : 

"  It  is  time  thou  shouldst  leave  us,  Sir  Maurice,"  said 
the  Templar  to  De  Bracy,  "  in  order  to  prepare  the  second 


IVAXHOE.  205 

part  of  thy  mystery.  Thou  art  next,  thou  knowest,  to 
act  the  Knight  Deliverer." 

"  I  have  thought  better  of  it,"  said  De  Bracy ;  "  I  will 
not  leave  thee  till  the  prize  is  fairly  deposited  in  Front- 
de-Bceuf's  castle.  There  will  I  appear  before  the  Lady 
Bowena  in  mine  own  shape,  and  trust  that  she  will  set 
down  to  the  vehemence  of  my  passion  the  violence  of 
which  I  have  been  guilty." 

"  And  what  has  made  thee  change  thy  plan,  De  Bracy  ?  " 
replied  the  Knight  Templar. 

"  That  concerns  thee  nothing,"  answered  his  companion. 

"I  would  hope,  however,  Sir  Knight,"  said  the  Tem- 
plar, "that  this  alteration  of  measures  arises  from  no 
suspicion  of  my  honourable  meaning,  such  as  Fitzurse 
endeavoured  to  instil  into  thee  ?  " 

"  My  thoughts  are  my  own,"  answered  De  Bracy  ;  "  the 
fiend  laughs,  they  say,  when  one  thief  robs  another ;  and 
we  know,  that  were  he  to  spit  lire  and  brimstone  instead, 
it  would  never  prevent  a  Templar  from  following  his 
bent." 

••  Or  the  leader  of  a  Free  Company,"  answered  the 
Templar,  "  from  dreading  at  the  hands  of  a  comrade  and 
friend  the  injustice  he  does  to  all  mankind." 

"This  is  unprofitable  and  perilous  recrimination," 
answered  De  Bracy ;  "  suffice  it  to  say,  I  know  the 
morals  of  the  Temple  Order,  and  I  will  not  give  thee 
the  power  of  cheating  me  out  of  the  fair  prey  for  which 
I  have  run  such  risks." 

"  Psha,"  replied  the  Templar,  "  what  hast  thou  to  fear  ? 
—  Thou  knowest  the  vows  of  our  Order." 

"  Eight  well,"  said  De  Bracy,  "and  also  how  they  are 
kept.  Come,  Sir  Templar,  the  laws  of  gallantry  have  a 
liberal  interpretation  in  Palestine,  and  this  is  a  case  in 
which  I  will  trust  nothing  to  your  conscience." 

"  Hear  the  truth,  then,"  said  the  Templar ;  "  I  care  not 
for  your  blue-eyed  beauty.  There  is  in  that  train  one 
who  will  make  me  a  better  mate." 

"  What !  wouldst  thou  stoop  to  the  waiting  damsel  ?  " 
said  De  Bracy. 

"  No,  Sir  Knight,"  said  the  Templar,  haughtily.     "  To 


206  IVANHOE. 

the  waiting-woman  will  I  not  stoop.    I  have  a  prize  among 
the  captives  as  lovely  as  thine  own." 

"  By  the  mass,  thou  meanest  the  fair  Jewess ! "  said 
De  Bracy. 

"  And  if  I  do,"  said  Bois-Guilbert,  "  who  shall  gainsay 
me?" 

"  No  one  that  I  know,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  unless  it  be 
your  vow  of  celibacy  or  a  check  of  conscience  for  an  in- 
trigue with  a  Jewess." 

"  For  my  vow,"  said  the  Templar,  "  our  Grand  Master 
hath  granted  me  a  dispensation.  And  for  my  conscience, 
a  man  that  has  slain  three  hundred  Saracens  need  not 
reckon  up  every  little  failing,  like  a  village  girl  at  her 
first  confession  upon  Good  Friday  eve." 

"Thou  knowest  best  thine  own  privileges,"  said  De 
Bracy.  "  Yet,  I  would  have  sworn  thy  thought  had  been 
more  on  the  old  usurer's  money-bags  than  on  the  black 
eyes  of  the  daughter." 

"  I  can  admire  both,"  answered  the  Templar ;  "  besides, 
the  old  Jew  is  but  half-prize.  I  must  share  his  spoils 
with  Front-de-Boeuf,  who  will  not  lend  us  the  use  of  his 
castle  for  nothing.  I  must  have  something  that  I  can 
term  exclusively  my  own  by  this  foray  of  ours,  and  I 
have  fixed  on  the  lovely  Jewess  as  my  peculiar  prize. 
But,  now  thou  knowest  my  drift,  thou  wilt  resume  thine 
own  original  plan,  wilt  thou  not  ?  —  Thou  hast  nothing, 
thou  seest,  to  fear  from  my  interference." 

"No,"  replied  De  Bracy,  "I  will  remain  beside  my 
prize.  What  thou  sayst  is  passing  true,  but  I  like  not 
the  privileges  acquired  by  the  dispensation  of  the  Grand 
Master,  and  the  merit  acquired  by  the  slaughter  of  three 
hundred  Saracens.  You  have  too  good  a  right  to  a  free 
pardon,  to  render  you  very  scrupulous  about  peccadilloes." 

While  this  dialogue  was  proceeding,  Cedric  was  en- 
deavouring to  wring  out  of  those  who  guarded  him  an 
avowal  of  their  character  and  purpose.  "  You  should  be 
Englishmen,"  said  he  ;  "  and  yet,  sacred  Heaven !  you 
prey  upon  your  countrymen  as  if  you  were  very  Nor- 
mans. You  should  be  my  neighbours,  and,  if  so,  my 
friends ;  for  which  of  my  English  neighbours  have  reason 


IVANHOE.  207 

to  be  otherwise  ?  I  tell  ye,  yeomen,  that  even  those 
among  ye  who  have  been  branded  with  outlawry  have 
had  from  me  protection ;  for  I  have  pitied  their  miseries, 
and  curst  the  oppression  of  their  tyrannic  nobles.  What, 
then,  would  you  have  of  me  ?  or  in  what  can  this  violence 
serve  ye  ?  —  Ye  are  worse  than  brute  beasts  in  your  ac- 
tions, and  will  you  imitate  them  in  their  very  dumbness  ?  " 

It  was  in  vain  that  Cedric  expostulated  with  his  guards, 
who  had  too  many  good  reasons  for  their  silence  to  be  in- 
duced to  break  it  either  by  his  wrath  or  his  expostula- 
tions. They  continued  to  hurry  him  along,  travelling  at 
a  very  rapid  rate,  until,  at  the  end  of  an  avenue  of  huge 
trees,  arose  Torquilstone,  now  the  hoary  and  ancient  castle 
of  Reginald  Front-de-Bceuf .  It  was  a  fortress  of  no  great 
size,  consisting  of  a  donjon,  or  large  and  high  square  tower, 
surrounded  by  buildings  of  inferior  height,  which  were 
encircled  by  an  inner  courtyard.  Around  the  exterior 
wall  was  a  deep  moat,  supplied  with  water  from  a  neigh- 
bouring rivulet.  Front-de-Bceuf,  whose  character  placed 
him  often  at  feud  with  his  enemies,  had  made  consider- 
able additions  to  the  strength  of  his  castle,  by  building 
towers  upon  the  o-  tward  wall,  so  as  to  flank  it  at  every 
angle.  The  access,  as  usual  in  castles  of  the  period,  lay 
through  an  arched  barbican,  or  outwork,  which  was  ter- 
minated and  defended  by  a  small  turret  at  each  corner. 

Cedric  no  sooner  saw  the  turrets  of  Front-de-Bceuf  s 
castle  raise  their  grey  and  moss-grown  battlements,  glim- 
mering in  the  morning  sun  above  the  wood  by  which  they 
were  surrounded,  than  he  instantly  augured  more  truly 
concerning  the  cause  of  his  misfortune. 

"  I  did  injustice,"  he  said,  "  to  the  thieves  and  outlaws 
of  these  woods,  when  I  supposed  such  banditti  to  belong 
to  their  bands ;  I  might  as  justly  have  confounded  the 
foxes  of  these  brakes  with  the  ravening  wolves  of  France. 
Tell  me,  dogs  —  is  it  my  life  or  my  wealth  that  your 
master  aims  at  ?  Is  it  too  much  that  two  Saxons,  myself 
and  the  noble  Athelstane,  should  hold  land  in  the  country 
which  was  once  the  patrimony  of  our  race  ?  —  Put  us, 
then,  to  death,  and  complete  your  tyranny  by  taking  our 
lives,  as  you  began  with  our  liberties.     If  the  Saxon 


208  IVANHOE. 

Cedric  cannot  rescue  England,  he  is  willing  to  die  for 
her.  Tell  your  tyrannical  master,  I  do  only  beseech  him 
to  dismiss  the  Lady  Rowena  in  honour  and  safety.  She 
is  a  woman,  and  he  need  not  dread  her ;  and  with  us  will 
die  all  who  dare  fight  in  her  cause." 

The  attendants  remained  as  mute  to  this  address  as  to 
the  former,  and  they  now  stood  before  the  gate  of  the 
castle.  De  Bracy  winded  his  horn  three  times,  and  the 
archers  and  cross-bow  men,  who  had  manned  the  wall 
upon  seeing  their  approach,  hastened  to  lower  the  draw- 
bridge and  admit  them.  The  prisoners  were  compelled 
by  their  guards  to  alight,  and  were  conducted  to  an  apart- 
ment where  a  hasty  repast  was  offered  them,  of  which 
none  but  Athelstane  felt  any  inclination  to  partake. 
Neither  had  the  descendant  of  the  Confessor  much  time 
to  do  justice  to  the  good  cheer  placed  before  them,  for 
their  guards  gave  him  and  Cedric  to  understand  that  they 
were  to  be  imprisoned  in  a  chamber  apart  from  Rowena. 
Resistance  was  vain ;  and  they  were  compelled  to  follow 
to  a  large  room,  which,  rising  on  clumsy  Saxon  pillars, 
resembled  those  refectories  and  chapter-houses  which 
may  be  still  seen  in  the  most  ancient  parts  of  our  most 
ancient  monasteries. 

The  Lady  Rowena  was  next  separated  from  her  train, 
and  conducted,  with  courtesy,  indeed,  but  still  without 
consulting  her  inclination,  to  a  distant  apartment.  The 
same  alarming  distinction  was  conferred  on  Rebecca,  in 
spite  of  her  father's  entreaties,  who  offered  even  money, 
in  this  extremity  of  distress,  that  she  might  be  permitted 
to  abide  with  him.  "  Base  unbeliever,"  answered  one  of 
his  guards,  "  when  thou  hast  seen  thy  lair,  thou  wilt  not 
wish  thy  daughter  to  partake  it."  And,  without  farther 
discussion,  the  old  Jew  was  forcibly  dragged  off  in  a 
different  direction  from  the  other  prisoners.  The  domes- 
tics, after  being  carefully  searched  and  disarmed,  were 
confined  in  another  part  of  the  castle  ;  and  Rowena  was 
refused  even  the  comfort  she  might  have  derived  from 
the  attendance  of  her  handmaiden  Elgitha. 

The  apartment  in  which  the  Saxon  chiefs  were  con- 
fined, for  to  them  we  turn  our  first  attention,  although 


IVANHOE.  209 

at  present  used  as  a  sort  of  guard-room,  had  formerly 
been  the  great  hall  of  the  castle.  It  was  now  abandoned 
to  meaner  purposes,  because  the  present  lord,  among 
other  additions  to  the  convenience,  security,  and  beauty 
of  his  baronial  residence,  had  erected  a  new  and  noble 
hall,  whose  vaulted  roof  was  supported  by  lighter  and 
more  elegant  pillars,  and  fitted  up  with  that  higher  de- 
gree of  ornament  which  the  Normans  had  already  intro- 
duced into  architecture. 

Cedric  paced  the  apartment,  filled  with  indignant  re- 
flections on  the  past  and  on  the  present,  while  the  apathy 
of  his  companion  served,  instead  of  patience  and  philoso- 
phy, to  defend  him  against  everything  save  the  incon- 
venience of  the  present  moment ;  and  so  little  did  he  feel 
even  this  last,  that  he  was  only  from  time  to  time  roused 
to  a  reply  by  Cedric's  animated  and  impassioned  appeal 
to  him. 

"  Yes,"  said  Cedric,  half  speaking  to  himself  and  half 
addressing  himself  to  Athelstane,  "  it  was  in  this  very 
hall  that  my  father  feasted  with  Torquil  Wolfganger, 
when  he  entertained  the  valiant  and  unfortunate  Harold, 
then  advancing  against  the  Norwegians,  who  had  united 
themselves  to  the  rebel  Tosti.  It  was  in  this  hall  that 
Harold  returned  the  magnanimous  answer  to  the  ambas- 
sador of  his  rebel  brother.  Oft  have  I  heard  my  father 
kindle  as  he  told  the  tale.  The  envoy  of  Tosti  was  ad- 
mitted, when  this  ample  room  could  scarce  contain  the 
crowd  of  noble  Saxon  leaders  who  were  quaffing  the  blood- 
red  wine  around  their  monarch." 

"I  hope,"  said  Athelstane,  somewhat  moved  by  this 
part  of  his  friend's  discourse,  "they  will  not  forget  to 
send  us  some  wine  and  refections  at  noon  —  we  had  scarce 
a  breathing-space  allowed  to  break  our  fast,  and  I  never 
have  the  benefit  of  my  food  when  I  eat  immediately  after 
dismounting  from  horseback,  though  the  leeches  recom- 
mend that  practice." 

Cedric  went  on  with  his  story  without  noticing  this 
interjectional  observation  of  his  friend : 

"The  envoy  of  Tosti,"  he  said,  "moved  up  the  hall, 
undismayed  by  the  frowning  countenances  of  all  around 


210  IVANHOE. 

him,  until  he  made  his  obeisance  before  the  throne  of 
King  Harold.  — '  What  terms,'  he  said, '  Lord  King,  hath 
thy  brother  Tosti  to  hope,  if  he  should  lay  down  his  arms 
and  crave  peace  at  thy  hands  ? '  —  *  A  brother's  love,' 
cried  the  generous  Harold,  '  and  the  fair  earldom  of 
Northumberland.'  — '  But  should  Tosti  accept  these  terms,' 
continued  the  envoy, '  what  lands  shall  be  assigned  to  his 
faithful  ally,  Hardrada,  King  of  Norway  ?  '  — '  Seven  feet 
of  English  ground,'  answered  Harold,  fiercely,  '  or,  as 
Hardrada  is  said  to  be  a  giant,  perhaps  we  may  allow 
him  twelve  inches  more.'  —  The  hall  rung  with  ac- 
clamations, and  cup  and  horn  was  filled  to  the  Norwegian, 
who  should  be  speedily  in  possession  of  his  English 
territory." 

"  I  could  have  pledged  him  with  all  my  soul,"  said 
Athelstane,  "for  my  tongue  cleaves  to  my  palate." 

"  The  baffled  envoy,"  continued  Cedric,  pursuing  with 
animation  his  tale,  though  it  interested  not  the  listener, 
"retreated,  to  carry  to  Tosti  and  his  ally  the  ominous 
answer  of  his  injured  brother.  It  was  then  that  the  dis- 
tant towers  of  York  and  the  bloody  streams  of  the  Der- 
went  beheld  that  direful  conflict,  in  which,  after  display- 
ing the  most  undaunted  valour,  the  King  of  Norway  and 
Tosti  both  fell,  with  ten  thousand  of  their  bravest  fol- 
lowers. —  Who  would  have  thought  that,  upon  the  proud 
day  when  this  battle  was  won,  the  very  gale  which  waved 
the  Saxon  banners  in  triumph  was  filling  the  Norman 
sails,  and  impelling  them  to  the  fatal  shores  of  Sussex  ? 
—  Who  would  have  thought  that  Harold,  within  a  few 
brief  days,  would  himself  possess  no  more  of  his  kingdom 
than  the  share  which  he  allotted  in  his  wrath  to  the  Nor- 
wegian invader  ?  —  Who  would  have  thought  that  you, 
noble  Athelstane  —  that  you,  descended  of  Harold's  blood, 
and  that  I,  whose  father  was  not  the  worst  defender  of 
the  Saxon  crown,  should  be  prisoners  to  a  vijje  Norman, 
in  the  very  hall  in  which  our  ancestors  held  such  high 
festival  ?  " 

"  It  is  sad  enough,"  replied  Athelstane ;  "  but  I  trust 
they  will  hold  us  to  a  moderate  ransom.  At  any  rate,  it 
cannot  be  their  purpose  to  starve  us  outright ;  and  yet, 


IVANHOE.  211 

although  it  is  high  noon,  I  see  no  preparations  for  serving 
dinner.  Look  up  at  the  window,  noble  Cedric,  and  judge 
by  the  sunbeams  if  it  is  not  on  the  verge  of  noon." 

"  It  may  be  so,"  answered  Cedric ;  "  but  I  cannot  look 
on  that  stained  lattice  without  its  awakening  other  re- 
flections than  those  which  concern  the  passing  moment 
or  its  privations.  When  that  window  was  wrought,  my 
noble  friend,  our  hardy  fathers  knew  not  the  art  of  mak- 
ing glass,  or  of  staining  it.  The  pride  of  Wolf  ganger's 
father  brought  an  artist  from  Normandy  to  adorn  his 
hall  with  this  new  species  of  emblazonment,  that  breaks 
the  golden  light  of  God's  blessed  day  into  so  many  fan- 
tastic hues.  The  foreigner  came  here  poor,  beggarly, 
cringing,  and  subservient,  ready  to  don0  his  cap  to  the 
meanest  native  of  the  household.  He  returned  pampered 
and  proud  to  tell  his  rapacious  countrymen  of  the  wealth 
and  the  simplicity  of  the  Saxon  nobles  —  a  folly,  0  Athel- 
stane !  foreboded  of  old,  as  well  as  foreseen  by  those  de- 
scendants of  Hengist  and  his  hardy  tribes  who  retained 
the  simplicity  of  their  manners.  We  made  these 
strangers  our  bosom  friends,  our  confidential  servants ; 
we  borrowed  their  artists  and  their  arts,  and  despised  the 
honest  simplicity  and  hardihood  with  which  our  brave 
ancestors  supported  themselves ;  and  we  became  ener- 
vated by  Norman  arts  long  ere  we  fell  under  Norman 
arms.  Far  better  was  our  homely  diet,  eaten  in  peace 
and  liberty,  than  the  luxurious  dainties,  the  love  of  which 
hath  delivered  us  as  bondsmen  to  the  foreign  conqueror ! ' 

"  I  should,"  replied  Athelstane,  "  hold  very  humble  diet 
a  luxury  at  present ;  and  it  astonishes  me,  noble  Cedric, 
that  you  can  bear  so  truly  in  mind  the  memory  of  past 
deeds,  when  it  appeareth  you  forget  the  very  hour  of 
dinner." 

"  It  is  time  lost,"  muttered  Cedric  apart  and  impatiently, 
"  to  speak  to  him  of  aught  else  but  that  which  concerns 
his  appetite !  The  soul  of  Hardicanute  hath  taken  pos- 
session of  him,  and  he  hath  no  pleasure  save  to  fill,  to 
swill,  and  to  call  for  more.  — Alas  !  "  said  he,  looking  at 
Athelstane  with  compassion,  "  that  so  dull  a  spirit  should 
be  lodged  in  so  goodly  a  form  !     Alas  !  that  such  an  en- 


212  IVANHOE. 

terprise  as  the  regeneration  of  England  should  turn  on  a 
hinge  so  imperfect !  Wedded  to  Rowena,  indeed,  her 
nobler  and  more  generous  soul  may  yet  awake  the  better 
nature  which  is  torpid  within  him.  Yet  how  should  this 
be,  while  Eowena,  Athelstane,  and  I  myself  remain  the 
prisoners  of  this  brutal  marauder,  and  have  been  made  so 
perhaps  from  a  sense  of  the  dangers  which  our  liberty 
might  bring  to  the  usurped  power  of  his  nation  ?  " 

While  the  Saxon  was  plunged  in  these  painful  reflec- 
tions, the  door  of  their  prison  opened  and  gave  entrance 
to  a  sewer,  holding  his  white  rod  of  office.  This  impor- 
tant person  advanced  into  the  chamber  with  a  grave  pace, 
followed  by  four  attendants,  bearing  in  a  table  covered 
with  dishes,  the  sight  and  smell  of  which  seemed  to  be 
an  instant  compensation  to  Athelstane  for  all  the  incon- 
venience he  had  undergone.  The  persons  who  attended 
on  the  feast  were  masked  and  cloaked. 

"  What  mummery  is  this  ?  "  said  Cedric ;  "  think  you 
that  we  are  ignorant  whose  prisoners  we  are,  when  we 
are  in  the  castle  of  your  master?  Tell  him,"  he  con- 
tinued, willing  to  use  this  opportunity  to  open  a  nego- 
tiation for  his  freedom  — "  tell  your  master,  Reginald 
Front-de-Bceuf,  that  we  know  no  reason  he  can  have  for 
withholding  our  liberty,  excepting  his  unlawful  desire  to 
enrich  himself  at  our  expense.  Tell  him  that  we  yield 
to  his  rapacity,  as  in  similar  circumstances  we  should  do 
to  that  of  a  literal  robber.  ,  Let  him  name  the  ransom  at 
which  he  rates  our  liberty,  and  it  shall  be  paid,  providing 
the  exaction  is  suited  to  our  means." 

The  sewer  made  no  answer,  but  bowed  his  head. 

"  And  tell  Sir  Reginald  Front-de-Bceuf,"  said  Athel- 
stane, "  that  I  send  him  my  mortal  defiance,  and  chal- 
lenge him  to  combat  with  me,  on  foot  or  horseback,  at 
any  secure  place,  within  eight  days  after  our  liberation ; 
which,  if  he  be  a  true  knight,  he  will  not,  under  these 
circumstances,  venture  to  refuse  or  to  delay." 

"  I  shall  deliver  to  the  knight  your  defiance,"  answered 
the  sewer  ;  "  meanwhile  I  leave  you  to  your  food." 

The  challenge  of  Athelstane  was  delivered  with  no 
good  grace ;  for  a  large  mouthful,  which  required  the 


IVAN-HOE.  213 

exercise  of  both  jaws  at  once,  added  to  a  natural  hesita- 
tion, considerably  damped  the  effect  of  the  bold  defiance 
it  contained.  Still,  however,  his  speech  was  hailed  by 
Cedric  as  an  incontestable  token  of  reviving  spirit  in  his 
companion,  whose  previous  indifference  had  begun,  not- 
withstanding his  respect  for  Athelstane's  descent,  to  wear 
out  his  patience.  But  he  now  cordially  shook  hands  with 
him  in  token  of  his jipprobation,  and  was  somewhat  grieved 
when  Athelstane  observed,  "  That  he  would  fight  a  dozen 
such  men  as  Front-de-Boeuf,  if  by  so  doing  he  could  hasten 
his  departure  from  a  dungeon  where  they  put  so  much 
garlic  into  their  pottage."  Notwithstanding  this  intima- 
tion of  a  relapse  into  the  apathy  of  sensuality,  Cedric 
placed  himself  opposite  to  Athelstane,  and  soon  showed 
that,  if  the  distresses  of  his  country  could  banish  the 
recollection  of  food  while  the  table  was  uncovered,  yet  ' 
no  sooner  were  the  victuals  put  there  than  he  proved  that 
the  appetite  of  his  Saxon  ancestors  had  descended  to  him 
along  with  their  other  qualities. 

The  captives  had  not  long  enjoyed  their  refreshment, 
however,  ere  their  attention  was  disturbed  even  from 
this  most  serious  occupation  by  the  blast  of  a  horn  winded 
before  the  gate.  It  was  repeated  three  times,  with  as 
much  violence  as  if  it  had  been  blown  before  an  en- 
chanted castle  by  the  destined  knight  at  whose  summons 
halls  and  towers,  barbican  and  battlement,  were  to  roll 
off  like  a  morning  vapour.  The  Saxons  started  from  the 
table  and  hastenecPto  the  window.  But  their  curiosity 
was  disappointed;  for  these  outlets  only  looked  upon 
the  court  of  the  castle,  and  the  sound  came  from  beyond 
its  precincts.  The  summons,  however,  seemed  of  impor- 
tance, for  a  considerable  degree  of  bustle  instantly  took 
place  in  the  castle. 


214  IVANHOE. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 


My  daughter  !    O  my  ducats  !    O  my  daughter 


O  my  Christian  ducats  !  6-e-*~~ 

Justice  —  the  Law  —  my  ducats  and  my  daughter ! 

Merchant  of  Venice. 

Leaving  the  Saxon  chiefs  to  return  to  their  banquet 
as  soon  as  their  ungratified  curiosity  should  permit  them 
to  attend  to  the  calls  of  their  half-satiated  appetite,  we 
have  to  look  in  upon  the  yet  more  severe  imprisonment 
of  Isaac  of  York.  The  poor  Jew  had  been  hastily  thrust 
into  a  dungeon-vault  of  the  castle,  the  floor  of  which  was 
deep  beneath  the  level  of  the  ground,  and  very  damp, 
being  lower  than  even  the  moat  itself.  The  only  light 
was  received  through  one  or  two  loop-holes  far  above  the 
reach  of  the  captive's  hand.  These  apertures  admitted, 
even  at  mid-day,  only  a  dim  and  uncertain  light,  which 
was  changed  for  utter  darkness  long  before  the  rest  of 
the  castle  had  lost  the  blessing  of  day.  Chains  and 
shackles,  which  had  been  the  portion  of  former  captives, 
from  whom  active  exertions  to  escape  had  been  appre- 
hended, hung  rusted  and  empty  on  the  walls  of  the 
prison,  and  in  the  rings  of  one  of  those  sets  of  fetters 
there  remained  two  mouldering  bones,  which  seemed  to 
have  been  once  those  of  the  human  leg,  as  if  some  pris- 
oner had  been  left  not  only  to  perish  there,  but  to  be 
L-  consumed  to  a  skeleton. 

At  one  end  of  this  ghastly  apartment  was  a  large  fire- 
grate, over  the  top  of  which  were  stretched  some  trans- 
verse iron  bars,  half-devoured  with  rust. 

The  whole  appearance  of  the  dungeon  might  have 
appalled  a  stouter  heart  than  that  of  Isaac,  who,  never- 
theless, was  more  composed  under  the  imminent  pressure 
of  danger  than  he  had  seemed  to  be  while  affected  by 
terrors  of  which  the  cause  was  as  yet  remote  and  contin- 
gent. (/^The  loverp  nf  the  chase  say  that-lhe_iiajie_ieels. 
more  agony  during  the  pursuit  of  the  greyhounds— 1 
when  she  is  struggling  in  their  fangs.\   And  thus  it  is 


IVANEOE.  215 

probable  that  the  Jews,  by  the  very  frequency  of  their 
fear  on  all  occasions,  had  their  minds  in  some  degree 
prepared  for  every  effort  of  tyranny  which  could  be 
practised  upon  them  ;  so  that  no  aggression,  when  it  had 
taken  place,  could  bring  with  it  that  surprise  which  is 
the  most  disabling  quality  of  terror.  Neither  was  it  the 
first  time  that  Isaac  had  been  placed  in  circumstances  so 
dangerous.  He  had  therefore  experience  to  guide  him, 
as  well  as  hope  that  he  might  again,  as  formerly,  be 
delivered  as  a  prey  from  the  fowler.  Above  all,  he  had 
upon  his  side  the  unyielding  obstinacy  of  his  natioD,  and 
that  unbending  resolution  with  which  Israelites  have 
been  frequently  known  to  submit  to  the  uttermost  evils 
which  power  and  violence  can  iDflict  upon  them,  rather 
than  gratify  their  oppressors  by  granting  their  demands. 

In  this  humour  of  passive  resistance,  and  with  his 
garment  collected  beneath  him  to  keep  his  limbs  from 
the  wet  pavement,  Isaac  sat  in  a  corner  of  his  dungeon, 
where  his  folded  hands,  his  dishevelled  hair  and  beard, 
his  furred  cloak  and  high  cap,  seen  by  the  wiry  and 
broken  light,  would  have  afforded  a  study  for  Kem- 
brandt,  had  that  celebrated  painter  existed  at  the  period. 
The  Jew  remained  without  altering  his  position  for 
nearly  three  hours,  at  the  expiry  of  which  steps  were 
heard  on  the  dungeon  stair.  The  bolts  screamed  as  they 
were  withdrawn,  the  hinges  creaked  as  the  wicket  opened, 
and  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf,  followed  by  the  two  Sara- 
cen slaves  of  the  Templar,  entered  the  prison. 

Front-de-Boeuf,  a  tall  and  strong  man,  whose  life  had 
been  spent  in  public  war  or  in  private  feuds  and  broils, 
and  who  had  hesitated  at  no  means  of  extending  his 
feudal  power,  had  features  corresponding  to  his  charac- 
ter, and  which  strongly  expressed  the  fiercer  and  more 
malignant  passions  of  the  mind.  The  scars  with  which 
his  visage  was  seamed  would,  on  features  of  a  different 
cast,  have  excited  the  sympathy  and  veneration  due  to 
the  marks  of  honourable  valour  ;  but,  in  the  peculiar  case 
of  Front-de-Boeuf,  they  only  added  to  the  ferocity  of  his 
countenance,  and  to  the  dread  which  his  presence  in- 
spired.    This  formidable  baron  was  clad  in  a  leathern 


A,  x- 


216  IVANHOE. 

doublet,  fitted  close  to  his  body,  which  was  frayed  and 
soiled  with  the  stains  of  his  armour.  He  had  no 
weapon,  excepting  a  poniard  at  his  belt,  which  served  to 
counterbalance  the  weight  of  the  bunch  of  rusty  keys 
that  hung  at  his  right  side. 

The  black  slaves  who  attended  Front-de-Boeuf  were 
stripped  of  their  gorgeous  apparel,  and  attired  in  jerkins 
and  trowsers  of  coarse  linen,  their  sleeves  being  tucked 
up  above  the  elbow,  like  those  of  butchers  when  about  to 
exercise  their  function  in  the  slaughter-house.  Each 
had  in  his  hand  a  small  pannier ;  and,  when  they  entered 
the  dungeon,  they  stopt  at  the  door  until  Front-de-Boeuf 
himself  carefully  locked  and  double-locked  it.  Having 
taken  this  precaution,  he  advanced  slowly  up  the  apart- 
ment towards  the  Jew,  upon  whom  he  kept  his  eye  fixed, 
as  if  he  wished  to  paralyse  him  with  his  glance,  as 
some  animals  are  said  to  fascinate  their  prey.  It  seemed, 
indeed,  as  if  the  sullen  and  malignant  eye  of  Front-de- 
Boeuf  possessed  some  portion  of  that  supposed  power 
over  his  unfortunate  prisoner.  The  Jew  sate  with  his 
mouth  agape,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  savage  baron 
with  such  earnestness  of  terror  that  his  frame  seemed 
literally  to  shrink  together,  and  to  diminish  in  size  while 
encountering  the  fierce  Norman's  fixed  and  baleful  gaze. 
The  unhappy  Isaac  was  deprived  not  only  of  the  power 
of  rising  to  make  the  obeisance  which  his  terror  dictated, 
but  he  could  not  even  doff  his  cap,  or  utter  any  word  of 
supplication ;  so  strongly  was  he  agitated  by  the  con- 
viction that  tortures  and  death  were  impending  over 
him. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  stately  form  of  the  Norman 
appeared  to  dilate  in  magnitude,  like  that  of  the  eagle, 
which  ruffles  up  its  plumage  when  about  to  pounce  on  its 
defenceless  prey.  He  paused  within  three  steps  of  the 
corner  in  which  the  unfortunate  Jew  had  now,  as  it  were, 
coiled  himself  up  into  the  smallest  possible  space,  and 
made  a  sign  for  one  of  the  slaves  to  approach.  The 
black  satellite  came  forward  accordingly,  and,  producing 
from  his  basket  a  large  pair  of  scales  and  several  weights, 
he  laid  them  at  the  feet  of  Front-de-Boeuf,  and  again 


IVANHOE.  217 

retired  to  the  respectful  distance  at  which  his  companion 
had  already  taken  his  station. 

The  motions  of  these  men  were  slow  and  solemn,  as  if 
there  impended  over  their  souls  some  preconception  of 
horror  and  of  cruelty.  Front-de-Boeuf  himself  opened 
the  scene  by  thus  addressing  his  ill-fated  captive. 

"pMost  accursed  dog  of  an  accursed  race,"  he  said, 
awaking  with  his  deep  and  sullen  voice  the  sullen  echoes 
of  his  dungeon-vault,  "  seest  thou  these  scales  ?  " 

'J he  unhappy  Jew  returned  a  feeble  affirmative. 

"  In  these  very  scales  shalt  thou  weigh  me  out,"  said 
the  relentless  Baron,  "a  thousand  silver  pounds,  alter 
the  just  measure  and  weight  of  the  Tower  of  London.;' 

"  Holy  Abraham  !  "  returned  the  Jew,  finding  voice 
through  the  very  extremity  of  his  danger,  "  heard  man 
ever  such  a  demand  ?  —  Who  ever  heard,  even  in  a  min- 
strel's tale,  of  such  a  sum  as  a  thousand  pounds  of 
silver  ?  —  What  human  sight  was  ever  blessed  with  the 
vision  of  such  a  mass  of  treasure  ?  —  Not  within  the 
walls  of  York,  ransack  my  house  and  that  of  all  my 
tribe,  wilt  thou  find  the  tithe  of  that  huge  sum  of  silver 
that  thou  speakest  of  J'  ^ 

^1  am  reasonable,^)  answered  Front-de-Boeuf,  "and  if 
silver  be  scant,  I  refuse  not  gold.  At  the  rate  of  a  mark 
of  gold  for  each  six  pounds  of  silver,  thou  shalt  free  thy 
unbelieving  carcass  from  such  punishment  as  thy  heart 
has  never  even  conceived." 

"  Have  mercy  on  me,  noble  knight !  "  exclaimed  Isaac  ; 
"  I  am  old,  and  poor,  and  helpless.  It  were  unworthy  to 
triumph  over  me.  —  It  is  a  poor  deed  to  crush  a  worm.^ 

"  Old  thou  mayst  be,"  replied  the  knight ;  "  more 
shame  to  their  folly  who  have  suffered  thee  to  grow  grey 
in  usury  and  knavery.  Feeble  thou  mayest  be,  for  when 
had  a  Jew  either  heart  or  hand.  But  rich  it  is  well 
known  thou  art/* 

v  I  swear  to  you,  noble  knight,"  said  the  Jew,  "  by  all 
which  I  believe,  and  by  all  which  we  believe  in  com- 


mon  " 


"  Perjure  not  thyself,"  said  the  Norman,  interrupting 


him,  "and  let  not  thine  obstinacy  seal  thy  doom,  until 


218  IVANHOE. 

thou  hast  seen  and  well  considered  the  fate  that  awaits 
thee.  Think  not  I  speak  to  thee  only  to  excite  thy  ter- 
ror, and  practise  on  the  base  cowardice  thou  hast  derived 
from  thy  tribe.  I  swear  to  thee  by  that  which  thou  dost 
not  believe,  by  the  Gospel  which  our  church  teaches,  and 
by  the  keys  which  are  given  her  to  bind  and  to  loose, 
that  my  purpose  is  deep  and  peremptory.  This  dungeon 
is  no  place  for  trifling.  Prisoners  ten  thousand  times 
more  distinguished  than  thou  have  died  within  these 
walls,  and  their  fate  hath  never  been  known !  But  for 
thee  is  reserved  a  long  and  lingering  death,  to  which 
theirs  were  luxury^* 

He  again  made  a  signal  for  the  slaves  to  approach,  and 
spoke  to  them  apart,  in  their  own  language ;  for  he  also 
had  been  in  Palestine,  where,  perhaps,  he  had  learnt  his 
lesson  of  cruelty.  The  Saracens  produced  from  their 
baskets  a  quantity  of  charcoal,  a  pair  of  bellows,  and  a 
flask  of  oil.  While  the  one  struck  a  light  with  a  flint 
and  steel,  the  other  disposed  the  charcoal  in  the  large 
rusty  grate  which  we  have  already  mentioned,  and  exer- 
cised the  bellows  until  the  fuel  came  to  a  red  glow. 

"  Seest  thou,  Isaac/')'  said  Front-de-Boeuf,  "  the  range 
of  iron  bars  above  that  glowing  charcoal  ?  —  On  that 
warm  couch  thou  shalt  lie,  stripped  of  thy  clothes  as  if 
thou  wert  to  rest  on  a  bed  of  down.  One  of  these  slaves 
shall  maintain  the  fire  beneath  thee,  while  the  other  shall 
anoint  thy  wretched  limbs  with  oil,  lest  the  roast  should 
burn.  —  Now,  choose  betwixt  such  a  scorching  bed  and 
the  payment  of  a  thousand  pounds  of  silver ;  for,  by  the 
head  of  my  father,  thou  hast  no  other  option." 

i"Itis  impossible,''  exclaimed  the  miserable  Jew  —  "it 
is  impossible  that  your  purpose  can  be  real !  The  good 
God  of  nature  never  made  a  heart  capable  of  exercising 
such  cruelty  ! "  ' 

'"Trust  not  to  that,  Isaac,'*  said  Front-de-Boeuf,  'fit 
were  a  fatal  error.  Dost  thou  think  that  I,  who  haVe 
seen  a  town  sacked,  in  which  thousands  of  my  Christian 
countrymen  perished  by  sword,  by  flood,  and  by  fire,  will 
blench  from  my  purpose  for  the  outcries  or  screams  of 
one  single  wretched  Jew  ?     Or  thinkest  thou  that  these 


sM 


IVANHOE.  219 

swarthy  slaves,  who  have  neither  law,  country,  nor  con- 
science, but  their  master's  will  —  who  use  the  poison,  or 
the  stake,  or  the  poniard,  or  the  cord,  at  his  slightest 
wink  —  thinkest  thou  that  they  will  have  mercy,  who  do 
not  even  understand  the  language  in  which  it  is  asked  ? 
Be  wise,  old  man ;  discharge  thyself  of  a  portion  of  thy 
superfluous  wealth ;  repay  to  the  hands  of  a  Christian  a 
part  of  what  thou  hast  acquired  by  the  usury  thou  hast 
practised  on  those  of  his  religion.  Thy  cunning  may 
soon  swell  out  once  more  thy  shrivelled  purse,  but  neither 
leech  nor  medicine  can  restore  thy  scorched  hide  and 
flesh  wert  thou  once  stretched  on  these  bars.  Tell  down 
thy  ransom,  I  say,  and  rejoice  that  at  such  rate  thou 
canst  redeem  thee  from  a  dungeon  the  secrets  of  which, 
few  have  returned  to  tell.  I  waste  no  more  words  with 
thee  —  choose  between  thy  dross  and  thy  flesh  and  blood, 
and  as  thou  choosest,  so  shall  it  be." 

r  So  may  Abraham,  Jacob,  and  all  the  fathers  of  our 
people  assist  me,"  said  Isaac,  "  I  cannot  make  the  choice, 
because  I  have  not  the  means  of  satisfying  your  exorbi- 
tant demand \J) 

.^Seize  him  and  strip  him,  slaves,"  said  the  knight,  "and 
let  the  fathers  of  his  race  assist  him  if  they  can." 

The  assistants,  taking  their  directions  more  from  the 
Baron's  eye  and  his  hand  than  his  tongue,  once  more 
stepped  forward,  laid  hands  on  the  unfortunate  Isaac, 
plucked  him  up  from  the  ground,  and,  holding  him  be- 
tween them,  waited  the  hard-hearted  Baron's  farther 
signal.  The  unhappy  Jew  eyed  their  countenances  and 
that  of  Front-de-Boeuf,  in  hope  of  discovering  some  symp- 
toms of  relenting ;  but  that  of  the  Baron  exhibited  the 
same  cold,  half-sullen,  half-sarcastic  smile  which  had  been 
the  prelude  to  his  cruelty ;  and  the  savage  eyes  of  the 
Saracens,  rolling  gloomily  under  their  dark  brows,  acquir- 
ing a  yet  more  sinister  expression  by  the  whiteness  of 
the  circle  which  surrounds  the  pupil,  evinced  rather  the 
secret  pleasure  which  they  expected  from  the  approach- 
ing scene,  than  any  reluctance  to  be  its  directors  or 
agents.  The  Jew  then  looked  at  the  glowing  furnace 
over  which  he  was  presently  to  be  stretched,  and  seeing 


220  IVANHOE. 

no  chance  of  his  tormentor's  relenting,  his  resolution 
gave  way. 

"I  will  pay,"  he  said,  "the  thousand  pounds  of  silver.  — 
That  is/5  he  added,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  I  will  pay 
it  with  the  help  of  my  brethren ;  for  I  must  beg"  as  a  men- 
dicant at  the  door  of  our  synagogue  ere  I  make  up  so  un- 
heard-of a  sum.  —  When  and  where  must  it  be  delivered  ?y 

"  Here,"  replied  Front-de-Boeuf  —  "  here  it  must  be  de- 
livered ;  weighed  it  must  be  —  weighed  and  told  down 
on  this  very  dungeon  floor.  —  Thinkest  thou  I  will  part 
with  thee  until  thy  ransom  is  secure  ?/ 

"  And  what  is  to  be  my  surety,"  said  the  Jew,  "  that  I 
shall  be  at  liberty  after  this  ransom  is  paid  ?  " 

"The  word  of  a  Norman  noble,  thou  pawn-broking 
slave,'*  answered  Front-de-Boeuf ;  "  the  faith  of  a  Norman 
nobleman,  more  pure  than  the  gold  and  silver  of  thee  and 
all  thy  tribe." 

"  I  crave  pardon,  noble  lord,"  said  Isaac,  timidly,  "  but 
wherefore  should  I  rely  wholly  on  the  word  of  one  who 
will  trust  nothing  to  mine  ?  j? 

"  Because  thou  canst  not  nelp  it,  Jew,"  said  the  knight, 
sternly.  i(  Wert  thou  now  in  thy  treasure-chamber  at 
York,  and  were  I  craving  a  loan  of  thy  shekels,  it  would 
be  thine  to  dictate  the  time  of  payment  and  the  pledge 
of  security.  This  is  my  treasure-chamber.  Here  I  have 
thee  at  advantage,  nor  will  I  again  deign  to  repeat  the 
terms  on  which  I  grant  thee  liberty." 

The  Jew  groaned  deeply.  4  Grant  me,"  he  said,  "  at 
least,  with  my  own  liberty,  that  of  the  companions  with 
whom  I  travel.  They  scorned  me  as  a  Jew,  yet  they 
pitied  my  desolation,  and  because  they  tarried  to  aid  me 
by  the  way  a  share  of  my  evil  hath  come  upon  them ; 
moreover,  they  may  contribute  in  some  sort  to  my  ran- 
som." 

"  If  thou  meanest  yonder  Saxon  churls,"  said  Front-de- 
Boeuf,  a  their  ransom  will  depend  upon  other  terms  than 
thine.  Mind  thine  own  concerns,  Jew,  I  warn  thee,  and 
meddle  not  with  those  of  others./" 

r  I  am,  then,"  said  Isaac,  "  only  to  be  set  at  liberty, 
together  with  mine  wounded  friend  ?  " 


IVANHOE.  221 

."Shall  I  twice  recommend  it,"  said  Front-de-Boeuf ,  "to 
a  son  of  Israel,  to  meddle  with  his  own  concerns,  and 
leave  those  of  others  alone  ?  Since  thou  hast  made  thy 
choice,  it  remains  but  that  thou  payest  down  thy  ransom, 
and  that  at  a  short  dayTy 

"Yet  hear  me,"  said  the  Jew,  "for  the  sake  of  that 
very  wealth  which  thou  wouldst  obtain  at  the  expense  of 

thy /  here  he  stopped  short,  afraid  of  irritating  the 

savage  isforman.  But  Front-de-Boeuf  only  laughed,  and 
himself  filled  up  the  blank  at  which  the  Jew  had  hesi- 
tated. "  At  the  expense  of  my  conscience,  thou  wouldst 
say,  Isaac ;  speak  it  out  —  I  tell  thee,  I  am  reasonable. 
I  can  bear  the  reproaches  of  a  loser,  even  when  that  loser 
is  a  Jew.  Thou  wert  not  so  patient,  Isaac,  when  thou 
didst  invoke  justice  against  Jacques  Fitzdotterel,  for 
calling  thee  a  usurious  blood-sucker,  when  thy  exactions 
had  devoured  his  patrimony." 

"  I  swear  by  the  Talmud,"  said  the  Jew,  "  that  your 
valour  has  been  misled  in  that  matter.  Fitzdotterel 
drew  his  poniard  upon  me  in  mine  own  chamber,  because 
I  craved  him  for  mine  own  silver.  The  term  of  payment 
was  due  at  the  Passover." 

"I  care  not  what  he  did,"  said  Front-de-Boeuf,  "the 
question  is,  when  shall  I  have  mine  own  ?  —  when  shall 
I  have  the  shekels,  Isaac  ?  " 

"  Let  my  daughter  Rebecca  go  forth  to  York,"  answered 
Isaac,   "  with   your   safe-conduct,  noble   knight,  and  so 

soon  as  man  and  horse  can  return,  the  treasure "  here 

he  groaned  deeply,  but  added,  after  the  pause  of  a  few 
seconds :  "  the  treasure  shall  be  told  down  on  this  very 
floor." 

"  Thy  daughter !  "  said  Front-de-Boeuf,  as  if  surprised, 
"  by  heavens,  Isaac,  I  would  I  had  known  of  this.  I  deemed 
that  yonder  black-browed  girl  had  been  thy  concubine, 
and  I  gave  her  to  be  a  handmaiden  to  Sir  Brian  de  Bois- 
Guilbert,  after  the  fashion  of  patriarchs  and  heroes  of 
the  days  of  old,  who  set  us  in  these  matters  a  wholesome 
example." 

The  yell  which  Isaac  raised  at  this  unfeeling  commu- 
nication made  the  very  vault  to  ring,  and  astounded  the 


222  IVANHOE. 

two  Saracens  so  much  that  they  let  go  their  hold  of  the 
Jew.  He  availed  himself  of  his  enlargement  to  throw 
himself  on  the  pavement  and  clasp  the  knees  of  Front- 
de-Boeuf. 

"  Take  all  that  you  have  asked,"  said  he,  "  Sir  Knight ; 
take  ten  times  more  —  reduce  me  to  ruin  and  to  beggary, 
if  thou  wilt,  —  nay,  pierce  me  with  thy  poniard,  broil  me 
on  that  furnace ;  but  spare  my  daughter,  deliver  her  in 
safety  and  honour  !  —  As  thou  art  born  of  woman,  spare 
the  honour  of  a  helpless  maiden.  She  is  the  image  of 
my  deceased  Rachael  —  she  is  the  last  of  six  pledges  of 
her  love.  Will  you  deprive  a  widowed  husband  of  his 
sole  remaining  comfort?  —  Will  you  reduce  a  father  to 
wish  that  his  only  living  child  were  laid  beside  her  dead 
mother,  in  the  tomb  of  our  fathers  ?  " 

"I  would,"  said  the  Norman,  somewhat  relenting, 
"  that  I  had  known  of  this  before.  I  thought  your  race 
had  loved  nothing  save  their  money-bags." 

"  Think  not  so  vilely  of  us,  Jews  though  we  be,"  said 
Isaac,  eager  to  improve  the  moment  of  apparent  sympa- 
thy ;  "  the  hunted  fox,  the  tortured  wild-cat  loves  its 
young  —  the  despised  and  persecuted  race  of  Abraham 
love  their  children  !  " 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  Front-de-Boeuf ;  "  I  will  believe  it  in 
future,  Isaac,  for  thy  very  sake  —  but  it  aids  us  not  now ; 
I  cannot  help  what  has  happened,  or  what  is  to  follow ; 
my  word  is  passed  to  my' comrade  in  arms,  nor  would  I 
break  it  for  ten  Jews  and  Jewesses  to  boot.  Besides, 
why  shouldst  thou  think  evil  is  to  come  to  the  girl,  even 
if  she  became  Bois-Guilbert's  booty  ?  " 

"  There  will  —  there  must !  "  exclaimed  Isaac,  wring- 
ing his  hands  in  agony ;  "  when  did  Templars  breathe 
aught  but  cruelty  to  men  and  dishonour  to  women ! " 

"Dog  of  an  infidel,"  said  Front-de-Boeuf,  with  spark- 
ling eyes,  and  not  sorry,  perhaps,  to  seize  a  pretext  for 
working  himself  into  a  passion,  "  blaspheme  not  the  Holy 
Order  of  the  Temple  of  Zion,  but  take  thought  instead  to 
pay  me  the  ransom  thou  hast  promised,  or  woe  betide  thy 
Jewish  throat ! " 

"  Robber  and  villain ! "    said  the   Jew,  retorting  the 


IVANHOE.  223 

insults  of  his  oppressor  with  passion,  which,  however 
impotent,  he  now  found  it  impossible  to  bridle,  "  I  will 
pay  thee  nothing  —  not  one  silver  penny  will  I  pay  thee 

—  unless  my  daughter  is  delivered  to  me  in  safety  and 
honour ! " 

"  Art  thou  in  thy  senses,  Israelite  ?  "  said  the  Norman, 
sternly;  "hast  thy  flesh  and  blood  a  charm  against 
heated  iron  and  scalding  oil  ?  " 

"  I  care  not ! "  said  the  Jew,  rendered  desperate  by 
paternal  affection ;  "  do  thy  worst.  My  daughter  is  my 
flesh  and  blood,  dearer  to  me  a  thousand  times  than  those 
limbs  which  thy  cruelty  threatens.  No  silver  will  I  give 
thee,  unless  I  were  to  pour  it  molten  down  thy  avaricious 
throat  —  no,  not  a  silver  penny  will  I  give  thee,  Nazarene, 
were  it  to  save  thee  from  the  deep  damnation  thy  whole 
life  has  merited !  Take  my  life  if  thou  wilt,  and  say  the 
Jew,  amidst  his  tortures,  knew  how  to  disappoint  the 
Christian." 

"  We  shall  see  that,"  said  Front-de-Boeuf ;  "  for  by  the 
blessed  rood,  which  is  the  abomination  of  thy  accursed 
tribe,  thou  shalt  feel  the  extremities  of  fire  and  steel ! 

—  Strip  him,  slaves,  and  chain  him  down  upon  the  bars." 
In  spite  of  the  feeble  struggles  of  the  old  man,  the 

Saracens  had  already  torn  from  him  his  upper  garment, 
and  were  proceeding  totally  to  disrobe  him,  when  the 
sound  of  a  bugle,  twice  winded  without  the  castle,  pene- 
trated even  to  the  recesses  of  the  dungeon,  and  immedi- 
ately after  loud  voices  were  heard  calling  for  Sir  Reginald 
Front-de-Boeuf.  Unwilling  to  be  found  engaged  in  his 
hellish  occupation,  the  savage  Baron  gave  the  slaves 
a  signal  to  restore  Isaac's  garment,  and  quitting  the 
dungeon  with  his  attendants,  he  left  the  Jew  to  thank 
God  for  his  own  deliverance,  or  to  lament  over  his  daugh- 
ter's captivity  and  probable  fate,  as  his  personal  or 
parental  feelings  might  prove  strongest. 


224  IVANHOE. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

• 

Nay,  if  the  gentle  spirit  of  moving  words 

Can  no  way  change  you  to  a  milder  form, 

I'll  woo  you,  like  a  soldier,  at  arms'  end, 

And  love  you  'gainst  the  nature  of  love,  force  you. 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona. 

The  apartment  to  which  the  Lady  Rowena  had  been 
introduced  was  fitted  up  with  some  rude  attempts  at 
ornament  and  magnificence,  and  her  being  placed  there 
might  be  considered  as  a  peculiar  mark  of  respect  not 
offered  to  the  other  prisoners.  But  the  wife  of  Front-de- 
Boeuf,  for  whom  it  had  been  originally  furnished,  was 
long  dead,  and  decay  and  neglect  had  impaired  the  few 
ornaments  with  which  her  taste  had  adorned  it.  The 
tapestry  hung  down  from  the  walls  in  many  places,  and 
in  others  was  tarnished  and  faded  under  the  effects  of  the 
sun,  or  tattered  and  decayed  by  age.  Desolate,  however, 
as  it  was,  this  was  the  apartment  of  the  castle  which  had 
been  judged  most  fitting  for  the  accommodation  of 
the  Saxon  heiress  ;  and  here  she  was- left  to  meditate  upon 
her  fate,  until  the  actors  in  this  nefarious  drama  had 
arranged  the  several  parts  which  each  of  them  was  to 
perform.  This  had  been  settled  in  a  council  held  by 
Front-de-Boeuf,  De  Bracy,  and  the  Templar,  in  which, 
after  a  long  and  warm  ,  debate  concerning  the  several 
advantages  which  each  insisted  upon  deriving  from  his 
peculiar  share  in  this  audacious  enterprise,  they  had  at 
length  determined  the  fate  of  their  unhappy  prisoners. 

It  was  about  the  hour  of  noon,  therefore,  when  De 
Bracy,  for  whose  advantage  the  expedition  had  been  first 
planned,  appeared  to  prosecute  his  views  upon  the  hand 
and  possessions  of  the  Lady  Rowena. 

The  interval  had  not  entirely  been  bestowed  in  holding 
council  with  his  confederates,  for  De  Bracy  had  found 
leisure  to  decorate  his  person  with  all  the  foppery  of  the 
times.  His  green  cassock  and  vizard  were  now  flung 
aside.  His  long,  luxuriant  hair  was  trained  to  flow  in 
quaint  tresses  down  his  richly  furred  cloak.     His  beard 


Kr\o«A>    yt>i*    iviTTi'i"       5d<d    tho    M<\ 


IVAN  HOE.  225 

was  closely  shaved,  his  doublet  reached  to  the  middle  of 
his  leg,  and  the  girdle  which  secured  it,  and  at  the  same 
time  supported  his  ponderous  sword,  was  embroidered 
and  embossed  with  gold  work.  We  have  already  noticed 
the  extravagant  fashion  of  the  shoes  at  this  period,  and 
the  points  of  Maurice  de  Bracy's  might  have  challenged  the 
prize  of  extravagance  with  the  gayest,  being  turned  up 
and  twisted  like  the  horns  of  a  ram.  Such  was  the  dress 
of  a  gallant  of  the  period ;  and,  in  the  present  instance, 
that  effect  was  aided  by  the  handsome  person  and  good 
demeanour  of  the  wearer,  whose  manners  partook  alike 
of  the  grace  of  a  courtier  and  the  frankness  of  a  soldier. 

He  saluted  Rowena  by  doffing  his  velvet  bonnet,  gar- 
nished with  a  golden  brooch,  representing  St.  Michael 
trampling  down  the  Prince  of  Evil.  With  this,  he  gently 
motioned  the  lady  to  a  seat  and,  as  she  still  retained  her 
standing  posture,  the  knight  ungloved  his  right  hand, 
and  motioned  to  conduct  her  thither.  But  Rowena  de- 
clined, by  her  gesture,  the  proffered  compliment,  and 
replied  :  "  If  I  be  in  the  presence  of  my  jailor,  Sir  Knight 
—  nor  will  circumstances  allow  me  to  think  otherwise  — 
it  best  becomes  his  prisoner  to  remain  standing  till  she 
learns  her  doom./' 

"  Alas  !  fair  Rowena,"  returned  De  Bracy,  "  you  are  in 
presence  of  your  captive,  not  your  jailor  ;  and  it  is  from 
your  fair  eyes  that  De  Bracy  must  receive  that  doom 
which  you  fondly  expect  from  him." 

"  I  know  you  not,  sir,"  said  the  lady,  drawing  herself 
up  with  all  the  pride  of  offended  rank  and  beauty —  "  I 
know  you  not ;  and  the  insolent  familiarity  with  which 
you  apply  to  me  the  jargon  of  a  troubadour  forms  no 
apology  for  the  violence  of  a  robber." 

"  To  thyself,  fair  maid,"  answered  De  Bracy,  in  his 
former  tone,  "  to  thine  own  charms  be  ascribed  whate'er 
I  have  done  which  passed  the  respect  due  to  her  whom  I 
have  chosen  queen  of  my  heart  and  loadstar  of  my  eyes." 

i  I  repeat  to  you,  Sir  Knight,  that  I  know  you  not,  and 
that  no  man  wearing  chain  and  spurs  ought  thus  to  in- 
trude himself  upon  the  presence  of  an  unprotected  lady." 

"  That  I  am  unknown  to  you,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  is  in- 

Q 


226  IVANHOE. 

deed  my  misfortune;  yet  let  me  hope  that  De  Bracy's 
name  has  not  been  always  unspoken  when  minstrels  or 
heralds  have  praised  deeds  of  chivalry,  whether  in  the 
lists  or  in  the  battle-field." 

"  To  heralds  and  to  minstrels,  then,  leave  thy  praise, 
Sir  Knight,"  replied  Rowena,  "more  suiting  for  their 
mouths  than  for  thine  own ;  and  tell  me  which  of  them 
shall  record  in  song,  or  in  book  of  tourney,  the  memora- 
ble conquest  of  this  night,  a  conquest  obtained  over  an 
old  man,  followed  by  a  few  timid  hinds ;  and  its  booty, 
an  unfortunate  maiden  transported  against  her  will  to  the 
castle  of  a  robber  ?  " 

"  You  are  unjust,  Lady  Eowena,"  said  the  knight,  biting 
his  lips  in  some  confusion,  and  speaking  in  a  tone  more 
natural  to  him  than  that  of  affected  gallantry  which  he 
had  at  first  adopted ;  "  yourself  free  from  passion,  you 
can  allow  no  excuse  for  the  frenzy  of  another,  although 
caused  by  your  own  beauty." 

/"I  pray  you,  Sir  Knight, 'J  said  Rowena,  "to  cease  a 
language  so  commonly  used  by  strolling  minstrels  that  it 
becomes  not  the  mouth  of  knights  or  nobles.  Certes, 
you  constrain  me  to  sit  down,  since  you  enter  upon  such 
commonplace  terms,  of  which  each  vile  crowder  hath  a 
stock  that  might  last  from  hence  to  Christmas.'! 

"  Proud  damsel,"  said  De  Bracy,  incensed  at  finding  his 
gallant  style  procured  him  nothing  but  contempt,  "proud 
damsel,  thou  shalt  be  as  "proudly  encountered.  Know, 
then,  that  I  have  supported  my  pretentions  to  your  hand 
in  the  way  that  best  suited  thy  character.  It  is  meeter 
for  thy  humour  to  be  wooed  with  bow  and  bill  than  in  set 
terms  and  in  courtly  language."  p 

"  Courtesy  of  tongue,"  said  Rowena,  "  when  it  is  used 
to  veil  churlishness  of  deed,  is  but  a  knight's  girdle  around 
the  breast  of  a  base  clown.  I  wonder  not  that  the  re- 
straint appears  to  gall  you  —  more  it  were  for  your 
honour  to  have  retained  the  dress  and  language  of  an  out- 
law than  to  veil  the  deeds  of  one  under  an  affectation  of 
gentle  language  and  demeanour." 

"You  counsel  well,  lady,"  said  the  Norman;  "and  in 
the  bold  language  which  best  justifies  bold  action,  I  tell 


IVANHOE.  227 

thee,  thou  shalt  never  leave  this  castle,  or  thou  shalt  leave 
it  as  Maurice  de  Bracy's  wife.  I  am  not  wont  to  be  baffled 
in  my  enterprises,  nor  needs  a  Norman  noble  scrupulously 
to  vindicate  his  conduct  to  a  Saxon  maiden  whom  he  dis- 
tinguishes by  the  offer  of  his  hand.  Thou  art  proud, 
Rowena,  and  thou  art  the  fitter  to  be  my  wife.  By  what 
other  means  couldst  thou  be  raised  to  high  honour  and 
to  princely  place,  saving  by  my  alliance  ?  How  else 
wouldst  thou  escape  from  the  mean  precincts  of  a  coun- 
try grange,  where  Saxons  herd  with  the  swine  which  form 
their  wealth,  to  take  thy  seat,  honoured  as  thou  shouldst 
be,  and  shalt  be,  amid  all  in  England  that  is  distinguished 
by  beauty  or  dignified  by  power  ?  " 

T"  Sir  Knight,''  replied  Rowena,  "  the  grange  which  you 
contemn  hath  been  my  shelter  from  infancy ;  and,  trust 
me,  when  I  leave  it  —  should  that  day  ever  arrive — it 
shall  be  with  one  who  has  not  learnt  to  despise  the  dwell- 
ing and  manners  in  which  I  have  been  brought  up." 

"  I  guess  your  meaning,  lady,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  though 
you  may  think  it  lies  too  obscure  for  my  apprehension. 
But  dream  not  that  Richard  Cceur-de-Lion  will  ever  re- 
sume his  throne,  far  less  that  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe,  his 
minion,  will  ever  lead  thee  to  his  footstool,  to  be  there 
welcomed  as  the  bride  of  a  favourite.  Another  suitor 
might  feel  jealousy  while  he  touched  this  string ;  but  my 
firm  purpose  cannot  be  changed  by  a  passion  so  childish 
and  so  hopeless.  Know,  lady,  that  this  rival  is  in  my 
power,  and  that  it  rests  but  with  me  to  betray  the  secret 
of  his  being  within  the  castle  to  Front-de-Bceuf,  whose 
jealousy  will  be  more  fatal  than  mine." 

"  Wilfred  here  I "  said  Rowena,  in  disdain ;  "  that  is  as 
true  as  that  Front-de-Bceuf  is  his  rival." 

De  Bracy  looked  at  her  steadily  for  an  instant.  "  Wert 
thou  really  ignorant  of  this  ?  "  said  he  ;  "  didst  thou  not 
know  that  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe  travelled  in  the  litter  of 
the  Jew  ?  —  a  meet  conveyance  for  the  crusader  whose 
oughty  arm  was  to  reconquer  the  Holy  Sepulchre ! " 
Liid  he  laughed  scornfully. 

*(_A.nd  if  he  is  here,'"  said  Rowena,  compelling  herself 
to  a  tone  of  indifference,  though  trembling  with  an  agony 


tne 

Ms 


228  IVANHOE. 

of  apprehension  which  she  could  not  suppress/"  in  what 
is  he  the  rival  of  Front-de-Boeuf  ?  or  what  has  lie  to  f ear 
beyond  a  short  imprisonment  and  an  honourable  ransom, 
according  to  the  use  of  chivalry  ?  " 

"  Rowena,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  art  thou,  too,  deceived  by 
the  common  error  of  thy  sex,  who  think  there  can  be  no 
rivalry  but  that  respecting  their  own  charms  ?  Knowest 
thou  not  there  is  a  jealousy  of  ambition  and  of  wealth,  as 
well  as  of  love ;  and  that  this  our  host,  Front-de-Boeuf, 
will  push  from  his  road  him  who  opposes  his  claim  to  the 
fair  barony  of  Ivanhoe  as  readily,  eagerly,  and  unscrupu- 
lously as  if  he  were  preferred  to  him  by  some  blue-eyed 
damsel  ?  But  smile  on  my  suit,  lady,  and  the  wounded 
champion  shall  have  nothing  to  fear  from  Front-de-Boeuf, 
whom  else  thou  maj^st  mourn  for,  as  in  the  hands  of  one 


•/  ~? 


who  has  never  shown  compassion." 

\"  Save  him,  for  the  love  of  Heaven !  J  said  Rowena,  her 
firmness  giving  way  under  terror  for  her  lover's  impend- 
ing fate. 

"I  can  —  I  will  —  it  is  my  purpose,"  said  De  Bracy; 
"  for,  when  Rowena  consents  to  be  the  bride  of  De  Bracy, 
who  is  it  shall  dare  to  put  forth  a  violent  hand  upon  her 
kinsman  —  the  son  of  her  guardian  —  the  companion  of 
her  youth  ?  But  it  is  thy  love  must  buy  his  protection. 
I  am  not  romantic  enough  to  further  the  fortune,  or  avert 
the  fate,  of  one  who  is  likely  to  be  a  successful  obstacle 
between  me  and  my  wishes.  Use  thine  influence  with 
me  in  his  behalf,  and  he  is  safe ;  refuse  to  employ  it,  Wil- 
fred dies,  and  thou  thyself  art  not  the  nearer  to  freedom." 

("  Thy  language,"  answered  Rowena^  "  hath  in  its  indif- 
ferent bluntness  something  which  cannot  be  reconciled 
with  the  horrors  it  seems  to  express.  I  believe  not  that 
thy  purpose  is  so  wicked,  or  thy  power  so  great/ 

"  Flatter  thyself,  then,  with  that  belief,"  saidl)e  Bracy, 
"until  time  shall  prove  it  false.  Thy  lover  lies  wounded 
in  this  castle — thy  preferred  lover.  He  is  a  bar  betwixt 
Front-de-Boeuf  and  that  which  Front-de-Boeuf  loves  better 
than  either  ambition  or  beauty.  What  will  it  cost  beyond 
the  blow  of  a  poniard,  or  the  thrust  of  a  javelin,  to  silence 
his  opposition  for  ever  ?     Nay,  were  Front-de-Boeuf  afraid 


IVANHOE.  229 

to  justify  a  deed  so  open,  let  the  leech  but  give  his  patient 
a  wrong  draught,  let  the  chamberlain,  or  the  nurse  who 
tends  him,  but  pluck  the  pillow  from  his  head,  and  Wil- 
fred, in  his  present  condition,  is  sped  without  the  effusion 
of  blood.     Cedric  also " 

r"  And  Cedric  also,''  said  Kowena,  repeating  his  words 
— /'  my  noble  —  my  generous  guardian !  I  deserved  the 
evil  I  have  encountered,  for  forgetting  his  fate  even  in 
that  of  his  son  !  '/• 

"  Cedric's  fate  also  depends  upon  thy  determination," 
said  De  Bracy,  "  and  I  leave  thee  to  form  it." 

Hitherto,  Rowena  had  sustained  her  part  in  this  trying 
scene  with  undismayed  courage,  but  it  was  because  she 
had  not  considered  the  danger  as  serious  and  imminent. 
Her  disposition  was  naturally  that  which  physiognomists 
consider  as  proper  to  fair  complexions  —  mild,  timid, 
and  gentle;  but  it  had  been  tempered,  and,  as  it  were, 
hardened,  by  the  circumstances  of  her  education.  Accus- 
tomed to  see  the  will  of  all,  even  of  Cedric  himself  (suffi- 
ciently arbitrary  with  others)  give  way  before  her  wishes, 
she  had  acquired  that  sort  of  courage  and  self-confidence 
which  arises  from  the  habitual  and  constant  deference  of 
the  circle  in  which  we  move.  She  could  scarce  conceive 
the  possibility  of  her  will  being  opposed,  far  less  that  of 
its  being  treated  with  total  disregard. 

Her  haughtiness  and  habit  of  domination  was,  there- 
fore, a  fictitious  character,  induced  over  that  which  was 
natural  to  her,  and  it  deserted  her  when  her  eyes  were 
opened  to  the  extent  of  her  own  danger,  as  well  as  that 
of  her  lover  and  her  guardian ;  and  when  she  found  her 
will,  the  slightest  expression  of  which  was  wont  to  com- 
mand respect  and  attention,  now  placed  in  opposition  to 
that  of  a  man  of  a  strong,  fierce,  and  determined  mind, 
who  possessed  the  advantage  over  her,  and  was  resolved 
to  use  it,  she  quailed  before  him.  -  jfYt^ 

After  casting  her  eyes  around,  as  if  to  look  for  the  aid 
which  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  and  after  a  few  broken 
interjections,  she  raised  her  hands  to  heaven,  and  burst 
into  a  passion  of  uncontrolled  vexation  and  sorrow.  It- 
was  impossible  to  see  so  beautiful  a  creature  in  such 


230  IVANHOE. 

extremity  without  feeling  for  her,  and  De  Bracy  was  not 
unmoved,  though  he  was  yet  more  embarrassed  than 
touched.  He  had,  in  truth,  gone  too  far  to  recede ;  and 
yet,  in  Rowena's  present  condition,  she  could  not  be 
acted  on  either  by  argument  or  threats.  He  paced  the 
apartment  to  and  fro,  now  vainly  exhorting  the  terrified 
maiden  to  compose  herself,  now  hesitating  concerning 
his  own  line  of  conduct. 

"  If,"  thought  he,  "  I  should  be  moved  by  the  tears 
and  sorrow  of  this  disconsolate  damsel,  what  should  I 
reap  but  the  loss  of  those  fair  hopes  for  which  I  have 
encountered  so  much  risk,  and  the  ridicule  of  Prince 
John  and  his  jovial  comrades.  And  yet,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "  I  feel  myself  ill  framed  for  the  part  which  I 
am  playing.  I  cannot  look  on  so  fair  a  face  while  it  is 
disturbed  with  agony,  or  on  those  eyes  when  they  are 
drowned  in  tears.  I  would  she  had  retained  her  original 
haughtiness  of  disposition,  or  that  I  had  a  larger  share 
of  Front-de-Boeuf's  thrice-tempered  hardness  of  heart !  " 

Agitated  by  these  thoughts,  he  could  only  bid  the  un- 
fortunate Rowena  be  comforted,  and  assure  her  that  as 
yet  she  had  no  reason  for  the  excess  of  despair  to  which 
she  was  now  giving  way.  But  in  this  task  of  consola- 
tion De  Bracy  was  interrupted  by  the  horn,  "hoarse- 
winded  blowing  far  and  keen,"  which  had  at  the  same 
time  alarmed  the  other  inmates  of  the  castle,  and  inter- 
rupted their  several  plans  of  avarice  and  of  license.  Of 
them  all,  perhaps,  De  Bracy  least  regretted  the  interrup- 
tion; for  his  conference  with  the  Lady  Rowena  had 
arrived  at  a  point  where  he  found  it  equally  difficult  to 
prosecute  or  to  resign  his  enterprise. 

And  here  we  cannot  but  think  it  necessary  to  offer 
some  better  proof  than  the  incidents  of  an  idle  tale  to 
vindicate  the  melancholy  representation  of  manners  which 
has  been  just  laid  before  the  reader.  It  is  grievous  to 
think  that  those  valiant  barons,  to  whose  stand  against 
the  crown  the  liberties  of  England  were  indebted  for 
their  existence,  should  themselves  have  been  such  dread- 
ful oppressors,  and  capable  of  excesses  contrary  not  only 
to  the  laws  of  England,  but  to  those  of  nature  and  hu- 


IVANHOE.  231 

manity.  But,  alas  !  we  have  only  to  extract  from  the 
industrious  Henry  one  of  those  numerous  passages  which 
he  has  collected  from  contemporary  historians,  to  prove 
that  fiction  itself  can  hardly  reach  the  dark  reality  of 
the  horrors  of  the  period. 

The  description  given  by  the  author  of  the  Saxon 
Chronicle  of  the  cruelties  exercised  in  the  reign  of  King 
Stephen  by  the  great  barons  and  lords  of  castles,  who 
were  all  Normans,  affords  a  strong  proof  of  the  excesses 
of  which  they  were  capable  when  their  passions  were  in- 
flamed. "  They  grievously  oppressed  the  poor  people  by 
building  castles ;  and  when  they  were  built,  they  filled 
them  with  wicked  men,  or  rather  devils,  who  seized  both 
men  and  women  who  they  imagined  had  any  money, 
threw  them  into  prison,  and  put  them  to  more  cruel  tor- 
tures than  the  martyrs  ever  endured.  They  suffocated 
some  in  mud,  and  suspended  others  by  the  feet,  or  the 
head,  or  the  thumbs,  kindling  fires  below  them.  They 
squeezed  the  heads  of  some  with  knotted  cords  till  they 
pierced  their  brains,  while  they  threw  others  into  dun- 
geons swarming  with  serpents,  snakes,  and  toads."  But 
it  would  be  cruel  to  put  the  reader  to  the  pain  of  perus- 
ing the  remainder  of  this  description. 

As  another  instance  of  these  bitter  fruits  of  conquest, 
and  perhaps  the  strongest  that  can  be  quoted,  we  may 
mention,  that  the  Empress  Matilda,  though  a  daughter 
of  the  King  of  Scotland,  and  afterwards  both  Queen  of 
England  and  Empress  of  Germany,  the  daughter,  the 
wife,  and  the  mother  of  monarchs,  was  obliged,  during 
her  early  residence  for  education  in  England,  to  assume 
^ihe  Yeil  of  a  nun,  as  the  only  means  of  escaping  the  li- 
centious pursuit  of  the  Norman  nobles.  This  excuse  she 
stated  before  a  great  council  of  the  clergy  of  England,  as 
the  sole  reason  for  her  having  taken  the  religious  habit. 
The  assembled  clergy  admitted  the  validity  of  the  plea, 
and  the  notoriety  of  the  circumstances  upon  which  it 
was  founded;  giving  thus  an  indubitable  and  most  re- 
markable testimony  to  the  existence  of  that  disgraceful 
license  by  which  that  age  was  stained.  It  was  a  matter 
of  public  knowledge,  they  said,  that  after  the  conquest 


232  IVANHOE. 

of  King  William,  his  Norman  followers,  elated  by  so 
great  a  victory,  acknowledged  no  law  but  their  own 
wicked  pleasure,  and  not  only  despoiled  the  conquered 
Saxons  of  their  lands  and  their  goods,  but  invaded  the 
honour  of  their  wives  and  of  their  daughters  with  the 
most  unbridled  license ;  and  hence  it  was  then  common 
for  matrons  and  maidens  of  noble  families  to  assume  the 
veil,  and  take  shelter  in  convents,  not  as  called  thither 
by  the  vocation  of  God,  but  solely  to  preserve  their 
honour  from  the  unbridled  wickedness  of  man. 

Such  and  so  licentious  were  the  times,  as  announced 
by  the  public  declaration  of  the  assembled  clergy,  re- 
corded by  Eadmer ;  and  we  need  add  nothing  more  to 
vindicate  the  probability  of  the  scenes  which  we  have 
detailed,  and  are  about  to  detail,  upon  the  more  apocry- 
phal authority  of  the  Wardour  MS. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

I'll  woo  her  as  the  lion  woos  his  bride. 

Douglas. 

While  the  scenes  we  have  described  were  passing 
in  other  parts  of  the  castle,  the  Jewess  Rebecca  awaited 
her  fate  in  a  distant  and  sequestered  turret.  Hither  she 
had  been  led  by  two  of  her  disguised  ravishers,  and  on 
being  thrust  into  the  little  cell,  she  found  herself  in  the 
presence  of  an  old  sibyl,  who  kept  murmuring  to  herself 
a  Saxon  rhyme,  as  if  to  beat  time  to  the  revolving  dance 
'  which  her  spindle  was  performing  upon  the  floor.  The 
hag  raised  her  head  as  Rebecca  entered,  and  scowled  at 
the  fair  Jewess  with  the  malignant  envy  with  which  old 
age  and  ugliness,  when  united  with  evil  conditions,  are 
apt  to  look  upon  youth  and  beauty. 

"  Thou  must  up  and  away,  old  house-cricket,"  said  one 
of  the  men;  "our  noble  master  commands  it  —  thou  must 
e'en  leave  this  chamber  to  a  fairer  guest." 

"  Ay,"  grumbled  the  hag,  "  even  thus  is  service  re- 
quited.    I  have  known  when  my  bare  word  would  have 


IVANHOE.  233 

cast  the  best  man-at-arms  among  ye  out  of  saddle  and 
out  of  service ;  and  now  must  I  up  and  away  at  the 
command  of  every  groom  such  as  thou." 

"  Good  Dame  Urfried,"  said  the  other  man,  "  stand  not 
to  reason  on  it,  but  up  and  away.  Lords'  hests  must  be 
listened  to  with  a  quick  ear.  Thou  hast  had  thy  day, 
old  dame,  but  thy  sun  has  long  been  set.  Thou  art  now 
the  very  emblem  of  an  old  war-horse  turned  out  on  the 
barren  heath :  thou  hast  had  thy  paces  in  thy  time,  but 
now  a  broken  amble  is  the  best  of  them.  Come,  amble 
off  with  thee." 

"  111  omens  dog  ye  both  !  "  said  the  old  woman ;  "  and 
a  kennel  be  your  burying-place !  May  the  evil  demon 
Zernebock  tear  me  limb  from  limb,  if  I  leave  my  own 
cell  ere  I  have  spun  out  the  hemp  on  my  distaff ! " 

"  Answer  it  to  our  lord,  then,  old  house-fiend,"  said 
the  man,  and  retired,  leaving  Rebecca  in  company  with 
the  old  woman,  upon  whose  presence  she  had  been  thus 
unwillingly  forced. 

"  What  devil's  deed  have  they  now  in  the  wind  ?  "  said 
the  old  hag,  murmuring  to  herself,  yet  from  time  to  time 
casting  a  sidelong  and  malignant  glance  at  Rebecca; 
"but  it  is  easy  to  guess.  Bright  eyes,  black  locks,  and 
a  skin  like  paper,  ere  the  priest  stains  it  with  his  black 
unguent  —  ay,  it  is  easy  to  guess  why  they  send  her  to 
this  lone  turret,  whence  a  shriek  could  no  more  be  heard 
than  at  the  depth  of  five  hundred  fathoms  beneath  the 
earth — thou  wilt  have  owls  for  thy  neighbours,  fair 
one ;  and  their  screams  will  be  heard  as  far,  and  as 
much  regarded,  as  thine  own.  Outlandish,  too,"  she 
said,  marking  the  dress  and  turban  of  Rebecca.  "  What 
country  art  thou  of  ?  —  a  Saracen  or  an  Egyptian  ? 
Why  dost  not  answer  ?  Thou  canst  weep,  canst  thou 
not  speak  ?  " 

"  Be  not  angry,  good  mother,"  said  Rebecca. 

"  Thou  needst  say  no  more,"  replied  Urfried ;  "  men 
know  a  fox  by  the  train,  and  a  Jewess  by  her  tongue." 

"For  the  sake  of  mercy,"  said  Rebecca,  "tell  me 
what  I  am  to  expect  as  the  conclusion  of  the  vio- 
lence  which  hath   dragged    me    hither !     Is    it   my  life 


234  I  VAN  HOE. 

they  seek,  to  atone  for  my  religion?     I  will  lay  it  down 
cheerfully." 

"Thy  life,  minion !  "  answered  the  sibyl ;  "what  would 
taking  thy  life  pleasure  them  ?  —  trust  me,  thy  life  is  in 
no  peril.  Such  usage  shalt  thou  have  as  was  once  thought 
good  enough  for  a  noble  Saxon  maiden.  And  shall  a 
Jewess  like  thee  repine  because  she  hath  no  better  ? 
Look  at  me  —  I  was  as  young  and  twice  as  fair  as  thou, 
when  Front-de-Bo3uf,  father  of  this  Reginald,  and  his 
Normans,  stormed  this  castle.  My  father  and  his  seven 
sons  defended  their  inheritance  from  story  to  story,  from 
chamber  to  chamber.  There  was  not  a  room,  not  a  step 
of  the  stair,  that  was  not  slippery  with  their  blood. 
They  died  —  they  died  every  man  ;  and  ere  their  bodies 
were  cold,  and  ere  their  blood  was  dried,  I  had  become 
the  prey  and  the  scorn  of  the  conqueror !  " 

"  Is  there  no  help  ?  —  are  there  no  means  of  escape  ?  " 
said  Rebecca.    "  Richly,  richly  would  I  requite  thine  aid." 

"  Think  not  of  it,"  said  the  hag ;  "  from  hence  there 
is  no  escape  but  through  the  gates  of  death ;  and  it  is 
late,  late,"  she  added,  shaking  her  grey  head,  "  ere 
these  open  to  us.  Yet  it  is  comfort  to  think  that  we 
leave  behind  us  on  earth  those  who  shall  be  wretched  as 
ourselves.  Fare  thee  well,  Jewess! — Jew  or  Gentile, 
thy  fate  would  be  the  same ;  for  thou  hast  to  do  with 
them  that  have  neither  scruple  nor  pity.  Fare  thee  well, 
I  say.     My  thread  is  spun  out  — thy  task  is  yet  to  begin." 

"  Stay  !  stay  !  for  Heaven's  sake  ! "  said  Rebecca, 
"stay,  though  it  be  to  curse  and  to  revile  me  —  thy 
presence  is  yet  some  protection." 

"  The  presence  of  the  mother  of  God  were  no  protec- 
tion," answered  the  old  woman.  "  There  she  stands," 
pointing  to  a  rude  image  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  "see  if  she 
can  avert  the  fate  that  awaits  thee." 

She  left  the  room  as  she  spoke,  her  features  writhed 
into  a  sort  of  sneering  laugh,  which  made  them  seem 
even  more  hideous  than  their  habitual  frown.  She 
locked  the  door  behind  her,  and  Rebecca  might  hear 
her  curse  every  step  for  its  steepness,  as  slowly  and  with 
difficulty  she  descended  the  turret  stair. 


IVANHOE.  235 

Rebecca  was  now  to  expect  a  fate  even  more  dreadful 
than  that  of  Rowena ;  for  what  probability  was  there  that 
either  softness  or  ceremony  would  be  used  towards  one 
of  her  oppressed  race,  whatever  shadow  of  these  might 
be  preserved  towards  a  Saxon  heiress  ?  Yet  had  the 
Jewess  this  advantage,  that  she  was  better  prepared  by 
habits  of  thought,  and  by  natural  strength  of  mind,  to 
encounter  the  dangers  to  which  she  was  exposed.  Of 
a  strong  and  observing  character,  even  from  her  earliest 
years,  the  pomp  and  wealth  which  her  father  displayed 
within  his  walls,  or  which  she  witnessed  in  the  houses 
of  other  wealthy  Hebrews,  had  not  been  able  to  blind 
her  to  the  precarious  circumstances  under  which  they 
were  enjoyed.  Like  Damocles  at  his  celebrated  banquet, 
Rebecca  perpetually  beheld,  amid  that  gorgeous  display, 
the  sword  which  was  suspended  over  the  heads  of  her 
people  by  a  single  hair.  These  reflections  had  tamed 
and  brought  down  to  a  pitch  of  sounder  judgment  a 
temper  which,  under  other  circumstances,  might  have 
waxed  haughty,  supercilious,  and  obstinate. 
.  From  her  father's  example  and  injunctions,  Rebecca 
had  learnt  to  bear  herself  courteously  towards  all  who 
approached  her.  She  could  not  indeed  imitate  his  excess 
of  subservience,  because  she  was  a  stranger  to  the  mean- 
ness of  mind  and  to  the  constant  state  of  timid  appre- 
hension by  which  it  was  dictated ;  but  she  bore  herself 
with  a  proud  humility,  as  if  submitting  to  the  evil  cir- 
cumstances in  which  she  was  placed  as  the  daughter  of 
a  despised  race,  while  she  felt  in  her  mind  the  conscious- 
ness that  she  was  entitled  to  hold  a  higher  rank  from 
her  merit  than  the  arbitrary  despotism  of  religious  preju- 
dice permitted  her  to  aspire  to. 

Thus  prepared  to  expect  adverse  circumstances,  she 
had  acquired  the  firmness  necessary  for  acting  under 
them.  Her  present  situation  required  all  her  presence 
of  mind,  and  she  summoned  it  up  accordingly. 

Her  first  care  was  to  inspect  the  apartment;  but  it 
afforded  few  hopes  either  of  escape  or  protection.  It 
contained  neither  secret  passage  nor  trap-door,  and, 
unless  where  the  door  by  which  she  had  entered  joined 


236  IVANHOE. 

the  main  building,  seemed  to  be  circumscribed  by  the 
round  exterior  wall  of  the  turret.  The  door  had  no 
inside  bolt  or  bar.  The  single  window  opened  upon  an 
embattled  space  surmounting  the  turret,  which  gave 
Rebecca,  at  first  sight,  some  hopes  of  •  escaping ;  but  she 
soon  found  it  had  no  communication  with  any  other  part 
of  the  battlements,  being  an  isolated  bartizan,  or  balcony, 
secured,  as  usual,  by  a  parapet,  with  embrasures,  at 
which  a  few  archers  might  be  stationed  for  defending 
the  turret,  and  flanking  with  their  shot  the  wall  of  the 
castle  on  that  side.  ,  .    . 

There  was  therefore  no  hope  but  in  passive  fortitude, 
and  in  that  strong  reliance  on  Heaven  natural  to  great 
and  generous  characters.  Rebecca,  however  erroneously 
taught  to  interpret  the  promises  of  Scripture  to  the 
chosen  people  of  Heaven,  did  not  err  in  supposing  the 
present  to  be  their  hour  of  trial,  or  in  trusting  that 
the  children  of  Zion  would  be  one  day  called  in  with  the 
fulness  of  the  Gentiles.  In  the  meanwhile,  all  around 
her  showed  that  their  present  state  was  that  of  punish- 
ment and  probation,  and  that  it  was  their  especial  duty 
to  suffer  without  sinning.  Thus  prepared  to  consider 
herself  as  the  victim  of  misfortune,  Rebecca  had  early 
reflected  upon  her  own  state,  and  schooled  her  mind  to 
meet  the  dangers  which  she  had  probably  to  encounter. 

The  prisoner  trembled,  however,  and  changed  colour, 
when  a  step  was  heard  on  the  stair,  and  the  door  of  the 
turret-chamber  slowly  opened,  and  a  tall  man,  dressed  as 
one  of  those  banditti  to  whom  they  owed  their  misfor- 
tune, slowly  entered,  and  shut  the  door  behind  him  ;  his 
cap,  pulled  down  upon  his  brows,  concealed  the  upper 
part  of  his  face,  and  he  held  his  mantle  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  muffle  the  rest.  In  this  guise,  as  if  prepared  for 
the  execution  of  some  deed,  at  the  thought  of  which  he 
was  himself  ashamed,  he  stood  before  the  affrighted  pris- 
oner ;  yet,  ruffian  as  his  dress  bespoke  him,  he  seemed  at 
a  loss  to  express  what  purpose  had  brought  him  thither, 
so  that  Rebecca,  making  an  effort  upon  herself,  had  time 
to  anticipate  his  explanation.  She  had  already  unclasped 
two  costly  bracelets  and  a  collar,  which  she  hastened  to 


IVANHOE.  237 

proffer  to  the  supposed  outlaw,  concluding  naturally  that 
to  gratify  his  avarice  was  to  bespeak  his  favour. 

"  Take  these/'  she  said,  "  good  friend,  and  for  God's 
sake  be  merciful  to  me  and  my  aged  father.  These 
ornaments  are  of  value,  yet  are  they  trifling  to  what  he 
would  bestow  to  obtain  our  dismissal  from  this  castle 
free  and  uninjured." 

"  Fair  flower  of  Palestine,"  replied  the  outlaw,  "  these 
pearls  are  orient,  but  they  yield  in  whiteness  to  your 
teeth  ;  the  diamonds  are  brilliant,  but  they  cannot  match 
your  eyes  ;  and  ever  since  I  have  taken  up  this  wild 
trade,  I  have  made  a  vow  to  prefer  beauty  to  wealth." 

"  Do  not  do  yourself  such  wrong,"  said  Rebecca ;  "  take 
ransom,  and  have  mercy !  —  Gold  will  purchase  you 
pleasure ;  to  misuse  us  could  only  bring  thee  remorse. 
My  father  will  willingly  satiate  thy  utmost  wishes ;  and 
if  thou  wilt  act  wisely,  thou  mayst  purchase  with  our 
spoils  thy  restoration  to  civil  society  —  mayst  obtain 
pardon  for  past  errors,  and  be  placed  beyond  the  neces- 
sity of  committing  more." 

"  It  is  well  spoken,"  replied  the  outlaw  in  French, 
finding  it  difficult  probably  to  sustain  in  Saxon  a  conver- 
sation which  Rebecca  had  opened  in  that  language  ;  "  but 
know,  bright  lily  of  the  vale  of  Baca !  that  thy  father  is 
already  in  the  hands  of  a  powerful  alchemist,  who  knows 
how  to  convert  into  gold  and  silver  even  the  rusty  bars 
of  a  dungeon  grate.  The  venerable  Isaac  is  subjected 
to  an  alembic  which  will  distil  from  him  all  he  holds 
dear,  without  any  assistance  from  my  requests  or  thy 
entreaty.  Thy  ransom  must  be  paid  by  love  and  beauty, 
and  in  no  other  coin  will  I  accept  it." 

"  Thou  art  no  outlaw,"  said  Rebecca,  in  the  same  lan- 
guage in  which  he  addressed  her  ;  u  no  outlaw  had  refused 
such  offers.  Xo  outlaw  in  this  land  uses  the  dialect  in 
which  thou  hast  spoken.  Thou  art  no  outlaw,  but  a 
Korman  —  a  Korman,  noble  perhaps  in  birth.  Oh,  be  so 
in  thy  actions,  and  cast  off  this  fearful  mask  of  outrage 
and  violence ! " 

"  And  thou,  who  canst  guess  so  trauy/'  said  Brian  de 
Bois-Guilbert,  dropping  the  mantle  from  nis  face,  "  art 


238  IVANHOE. 

no  true  daughter  of  Israel,  but  in  all  save  youth  and 
beauty  a  very  witch  of  Endor.  I  am  not  an  outlaw  then, 
fair  rose  of  Sharon.  And  I  am  one  who  will  be  more 
prompt  to  hang  thy  neck  and  arms  with  pearls  and  dia- 
monds, which  so  well  become  them,  than  to  deprive  thee 
of  these  ornaments." 

"  What  wouldst  thou  have  of  me,"  said  Eebecca,  "  if 
not  my  wealth  ?  —  We  can  have  nought  in  common  be- 
tween us —  you  are  a  Christian  —  I  am  a  Jewess.  Our 
union  were  contrary  to  the  laws  alike  of  the  church  and 
the  synagogue." 

"  It  were  so,  indeed,"  replied  the  Templar,  laughing. 
"  Wed  with  a  Jewess  !  JJespardieax  I  —  Not  if  she  were 
the  Queen  of  Sheba !  AncTknow,  besides,  sweet  daughter 
of  Zion,  that  were  the  most  Christian  king  to  offer  me  his 
most  Christian  daughter,  with  Languedoc  for  a  dowry,  I 
could  not  wed  her.  It  is  against  my  vow  to  love  any 
maiden,  otherwise  than  par  amours^  as  I  will  love  thee. 
I  am  a  Templar.     BehoirHhe  cfossoi"  my  Holy  Order." 

"  Darest  thou  appeal  to  it,"  said  Eebecca,  "  on  an  occav 
sion  like  the  present  ?  " 

"And  if  I  do  so,"  said  the  Templar,  "it  concerns  not 
thee,  who  art  no  believer  in  the  blessed  sign  of  our 
salvation." 

"  I  believe  as  my  fathers  taught,"  said  Eebecca ;  "  and 
may  God  forgive  my  belief  if  erroneous !  But  you,  Sir 
Knight,  what  is  yours,  when  you  appeal  without  scruple 
to  that  which  you  deem  most  holy,  even  while  you  are 
about  to  transgress  the  most  solemn  of  your  vows  as  a 
knight  and  as  a  man  of  religion  ?  " 

"  It  is  gravely  and  well  preached,  0  daughter  of 
Sirach !  "  answered  the  "Templar ;  "  but,  gentle  Ecclesi- 
astica,  thy  narrow  Jewish  prejudices  make  thee  blind  to 
our  high  privilege.  Marriage  were  an  enduring  crime  on 
the  part  of  a  Templar ;  but  what  lesser  folly  I  may  prac- 
tise, I  shall  speedily  be  absolved  from  at  the  next  Pre- 
ceptory  of  our  Order.  Not  the  wisest  of  monarchs,  not 
his  father,  whose  examples  you  must  needs  allow  are 
weighty,  claimed  wider  privileges  than  we  poor  soldiers 
of  the  Temple  of  Zion  have  won  by  our  zeal  in  its  de- 


c 


,  IVANHOE.  239 


fence.  The  protectors  of  Solomon's  Temple  may  claim 
license  by  the  example  of  Solomon." 

"  If  thou  readest  the  Scripture,"  said  the  Jewess,  "  and 
the  lives  of  the  saints,  only  to  justify  thine  own  license 
and^rofligacy,  thy  crime  is  like  that  of  him  who  extracts 
poison  from  the  most  healthful  and  necessary  herbs." 

The  eyes  of  the  Templar  flashed  fire  at  this  reproof. 
"  Hearken,"  he  said,  "  Rebecca ;  I  have  hitherto  spoken 
mildly  to  thee,  but  now  my  language  shall  be  that  of  a 
conqueror.  Thou  art  the  captive  of  my  bow  and  spear, 
subject  to  my  will  by  the  laws  of  all  nations  ;  nor  will  I 
abate  an  inch  of  my  right,  or  abstain  from  taking  by  vio- 
lence what  thou  refusest  to  entreaty  or  necessity." 

"  Stand  back,"  said  Rebecca,  "  stand  back,  and  hear 
me  ere  thou  offerest  to  commit  a  sin  so  deadly!  My 
strength  thou  mayst  indeed  overpower,  for  God  made 
women  weak,  and  trusted  their  defence  to  man's  gener- 
osity. But  I  will  proclaim  thy  villainy,  Templar,  from 
one  end  of  Europe  to  the  other.  I  will  owe  to  the  super- 
stition of  thy  brethren  what  their  compassion  might  refuse 
me.  Each  Preceptory  —  each  Chapter  of  thy  Order,  shall 
learn  that,  like  a  heretic,  thou  hast  sinned  with  a  Jewess. 
Those  who  tremble  not  at  thy  crime  will  hold  thee  ac- 
cursed for  having  so  far  dishonoured  the  cross  thou 
wearest  as  to  follow  a  daughter  of  my  people." 

"  Thou  art  keen-witted,  Jewess,"  replied  the  Templar, 
well  aware  of  the  truth  of  what  she  spoke,  and  that  the 
rules  of  his  Order  condemned  in  the  most  positive  man- 
ner, and  under  high  penalties,  such  intrigues  as  he  now 
prosecuted,  and  that  in  some  instances  even  degradation 
had  followed  upon  it  —  "  thou  art  sharp-witted,"  he  said ; 
"  but  loud  must  be  thy  voice  of  complaint  if  it  is  heard 
beyond  the  iron  walls  of  this  castle  ;  within  these,  mur- 
murs, laments,  appeals  to  justice,  and  screams  for  help  die 
alike  silent  away.  One  thing  only  can  save  thee,  Rebecca. 
Submit  to  thy  fate,  embrace  our  religion,  and  thou  shalt 
go  forth  in  such  state  that  many  a  Norman  lady  shall 
yield  as  well  in  pomp  as  in  beauty  to  the  favourite  of 
the  best  lance  among  the  defenders  of  the  Temple." 

"  Submit  to  my  fate  !  "  said  Rebecca ;    "  and,  sacred 


240  IVANHOE. 

Heaven !  to  what  fate  ?  embrace  thy  religion !  and  what 
religion  can  it  be  that  harbours  such  a  villain  ?  —  Thou 
the  best  lance  of  the  Templars  !  Craven  knight !  —  for- 
sworn priest !  I  spit  at  thee  and  I  defy  thee.  —  The 
God  of  Abraham's  promise  hath  opened  an  escape  to  his 
daughter  — even  from  this  abyss  of  infamy  !  "  »^n- 

As  she  spoke,  she  threw  open  the  latticed  window  which 
led  to  the  bartisan,  and  in  an  instant  after,  stood  on  the 
very  verge  of  the  parapet,  with  not  the  slightest  screen 
between  her  and  the  tremendous  depth  below.  Unpre- 
pared for  such  a  desperate  effort,  for  she  had  hitherto 
stood  perfectly  motionless,  Bois-Guilbert  had  neither 
time  to  intercept  nor  to  stop  her.  As  he  offered  to  ad- 
vance, she  exclaimed,  "Remain  where  thou  art,  proud 
Templar,  or  at  thy  choice  advance !  —  one  foot  nearer, 
and  I  plunge  myself  from  the  precipice ;  my  body  shall 
be  crushed  out  of  the  very  form  of  humanity  upon  the 
stones  of  that  courtyard,  ere  it  become  the  victim  of  thy 
brutality  !  "   --'  ;  '*-* 

As  she  spoke  this,  she  clasped  her  hands  and  extended 
them  towards  heaven,  as  if  imploring  mercy  on  her  soul 
before  she  made  the  final  plunge.  The  Templar  hesi- 
tated, and  a  resolution  which  had  never  yielded  to  pity 
or  distress  gave  way  to  his  admiration  of  her  fortitude. 
"  Come  down,"  he  said,  "  rash  girl  !  —  I  swear  by  earth, 
and  sea,  and  sky,  I  will  offer  thee  no  offence." 

"  I  will  not  trust" thee,  Templar,"  said  Rebecca;  "thou 
hast  taught  me  better  how  to  estimate  the  virtues  of  thine 
Order.  The  next  Preceptory  would  grant  thee  absolution 
for  an  oath,  the  keeping  of  which  concerned  nought  but  the 
honour  or  the  dishonour  of  a  miserable  Jewish  maiden." 

"  You  do  me  injustice,"  exclaimed  the  Templar,  fer- 
vently ;  "  I  swear  to  you  by  the  name  which  I  bear  — 
by  the  cross  on  my  bosom  - —  by  the  sword  on  my  side  — 
by  the  ancient  crest  of  my  fathers  do  I  swear,  I  will  do 
thee  no  injury  whatsoever !  If  not  for  thyself,  yet  for 
thy  father's  sake  forbear !  I  will  be  his  friend,  and  in 
this  castle  he  will  need  a  powerful  one." 

"  Alas  ! '  said  Rebecca,  "  I  know  it  but  too  well.  Dare 
I  trust  thee  ?  " 


IVANHOE.  241 

u  May  my  arms  be  reversed  and  my  name  dishonoured," 
said  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  "  if  thou  shalt  have  reason 
to  complain  of  me  !  Many  a  law,  many  a  commandment 
have  I  broken,  but  my  word  never." 

"  I  will  then  trust  thee,"  said  Rebecca,  "  thus  far " ; 
and  she  descended  from  the  verge  of  the  battlement,  but 
remained  standing  close  by  one  of  the  embrasures,  or 
machicolles,  as  they  were  then  called.  "Here,"  she  said, 
"  I  take  my  stand.  Remain  where  thou  art,  and  if  thou 
shalt  attempt  to  diminish  by  one  step  the  distance  now 
between  us,  thou  shalt  see  that  the  Jewish  maiden  will 
rather  trust  her  soul  with  God  than  her  honour  to  the 
Templar !  " 

While  Rebecca  spoke  thus,  her  high  and  firm  resolve, 
which  corresponded  so  well  with  the  expressive  beauty 
of  her  countenance,  gave  to  her  looks,  air,  and  manner  a 
dignity  that  seemed  more  than  mortal.  Her  glance 
quailed  not,  her  cheek  blanched  not,  for  the  fear  of  a  fate 
so  instant  and  so  horrible ;  on  the  contrary,  the  thought 
that  she  had  her  fate  at  her  command,  and  could  escape  at 
will  from  infamy  to  death,  gave  a  yet  deeper  colour  of  car- 
nation to  her  complexion,  and  a  yet  more  brilliant  fire  to 
her  eye.  Bois-Guilbert,  proud  himself  and  high-spirited, 
thought  he  had  never  beheld  beauty  so  animated  and 
commanding. 

"  Let  there  be  peace  between  us,  Rebecca,"  he  said. 

"  Peace,  if  thou  wilt,"  answered  Rebecca,  "  peace  — 
but  with  this  space  between." 

"  Thou  needst  no  longer  fear  me,"  said  Bois-Guilbert. 

"I  fear  thee  not,"  replied  she,  "thanks  to  him  that 
reared  this  dizzy  tower  so  high  that  nought  could  fall 
from  it  and  live.  Thanks  to  him,  and  to  the  God  of 
Israel !  I  fear  thee  not." 

"Thou  dost  me  injustice,"  said  the  Templar;  "by 
earth,  sea,  and  sky,  thou  dost  me  injustice  !  I  am  not 
naturally  that  which  you  have  seen  me  —  hard,  selfish, 
and  relentless.  It  was  woman  that  taught  me  cruelty, 
and  on  woman  therefore  I  have  exercised  it ;  but  not  upon 
such  as  thou.  Hear  me,  Rebecca.  —  Never  did  knight 
take  lance  in  his  hand  with  a  heart  more  devoted  to  the 


242  IVANHOE. 

lady  of  his  love  than  Brian  de  Bois-G-uilbert.  She,  the 
daughter  of  a  petty  baron,  who  boasted  for  all  his  domains 
but  a  ruinous  tower  and  an  unproductive  vineyard,  and 
some  few  leagues  of  the  barren  Landes  of  Bourdeaux, 
her  name  was  known  wherever  deeds  of  arms  were  done, 
known  wider  than  that  of  many  a  lady's  that  had  a  county 
for  a  dowry.  —  Yes,"  he  continued,  pacing  up  and  down 
the  little  platform,  with  an  animation  in  which  he  seemed 
to  lose  all  consciousness  of  Rebecca's  presence  —  "yes, 
my  deeds,  my  danger,  my  blood  made  the  name  of  Ade- 
laide de  Montemare  known  from  the  court  of  Castile  to 
that  of  Byzantium.  And  how  was  I  requited  ?  When  I 
returned  with  my  dear-bought  honours  purchased  by  toil 
and  blood,  I  found  her  wedded  to  a  Gascon  squire,  whose 
name  was  never  heard  beyond  the  limits  of  his  own  pal- 
try domain  !  Truly  did  1  love  her,  and  bitterly  did  I  re- 
venge me  of  her  broken  faith !  But  my  vengeance  has 
recoiled  on  myself.  Since  that  day  I  have  separated 
myself  from  life  and  its  ties  —  My  manhood  must  know 
no  domestic  home,  must  be  soothed  by  no  affectionate 
wife  —  My  age  must  know  no  kindly  hearth  —  My  grave 
must  be  solitary,  and  no  offspring  must  outlive  me,  to 
bear  the  ancient  name  of  Bois-Guilbert.  At  the  feet  of 
my  Superior  I  have  laid  down  the  right  of  self-action  — 
the  privilege  of  independence.  The  Templar,  a  serf  in 
all  but  the  name,  can  possess  neither  lands  nor  goods,  and 
lives,  moves,  and  breathes, but  at  the  will  and  pleasure  of 
another." 

"  Alas !  "  said  Rebecca,  "  what  advantages  could  com- 
pensate for  such  an  absolute  sacrifice  ?  " 

"  The  power  of  vengeance,  Rebecca,"  replied  the  Tem- 
plar, "  and  the  prospects  of  ambition." 

"  An  evil  recompense,"  said  Rebecca,  "  for  the  sur- 
render of  the  rights  which  are  dearest  to  humanity." 

"  Say  not  so,  maiden,"  answered  the  Templar ;  "  re- 
venge is  a  feast  for  the  gods  !  And  if  they  have  reserved 
it,  as  priests  tell  us,  to  themselves,  it  is  because  they  hold 
it  an  enjoyment  too  precious  for  the  possession  of  mere 
mortals.  —  And  ambition !  it  is  a  temptation  which  could 
disturb  even  the  bliss  of  Heaven  itself."  —  He  paused  a 


IVANHOE.  243 

moment,  and  then  added,  "  Rebecca !  she  who  could  pre- 
fer death  to  dishonour  must  have  a  proud  and  a  powerful 
soul.  Mine  thou  must  be  !  —  Nay,  start  not,"  he  added, 
"  it  must  be  with  thine  own  consent,  and  on  thine  own 
terms.  Thou  must  consent  to  share  with  me  hopes  more 
extended  than  can  be  viewed  from  the  throne  of  a  mon- 
arch !  Hear  me  ere  you  answer,  and  judge  ere  you  refuse. 
The  Templar  loses,  as  thou  hast  said,  his  social  rights,  his 
power  of  free  agency,  but  he  becomes  a  member  and  a 
limb  of  a  mighty  body,  before  which  thrones  already 
tremble  —  even  as  the  single  drop  of  rain  which  mixes 
with  the  sea  becomes  an  individual  part  of  that  resistless 
ocean  which  undermines  rocks  and  ingulphs  royal  arma- 
das. Such  a  swelling  flood  is  that  powerful  league.  Of 
this  mighty  Order  I  am  no  mean  member,  but  already 
one  of  the  Chief  Commanders,  and  may  well  aspire  one 
day  to  hold  the  batoon  of  Grand  Master.  The  poor  sol- 
diers of  the  Temple  will  not  alone  place  their  foot  upon 
the  necks  of  kings  —  a  hemp-sandall'd  monk  can  do  that. 
Our  mailed  step  shall  ascend  their  throne,  our  gauntlet 
shall  wrench  the  sceptre  from  their  gripe.  Not  the  reign 
of  your  vainly-expected  Messiah  offers  such  power  to  your 
dispersed  tribes  as  my  ambition  may  aim  at.  I  have 
sought  but  a  kindred  spirit  to  share  it,  and  I  have  found 
such  in  thee." 

"  Sayst  thou  this  to  one  of  my  people  ?  "  answered 
Rebecca.     "  Bethink  thee " 

"  Answer  me  not,"  said  the  Templar,  "  by  urging  the 
difference  of  our  creeds ;  within  our  secret  conclaves  we 
hold  these  nursery  tales  in  derision.  Think  not  we  long 
remained  blind  to  the  idiotical  folly  of  our  founders,  who 
forswore  every  delight  of  life  for  the  pleasure  of  dying 
martyrs  by  hunger,  by  thirst,  and  by  pestilence,  and  by 
the  swords  of  savages,  while  they  vainly  strove  to  defend 
a  barren  desert,  valuable  only  in  the  eyes  of  superstition. 
Our  Order  soon  adopted  bolder  and  wider  views,  and  found 
out  a  better  indemnification  for  our  sacrifices.  Our  im- 
mense possessions  in  every  kingdom  of  Europe,  our  high 
military  fame,  which  brings  within  our  circle  the  flower 
of  chivalry  from  every  Christian  clime  —  these  are  dedi- 


244  IVANHOE. 

cated  to  ends  of  which  our  pious  founders  little  dreamed, 
and  which  are  equally  concealed  from  such  weak  spirits 
as  embrace  our  Order  on  the  ancient  principles,  and  whose 
superstition  makes  them  our  passive  tools.  But  I  will 
not  further  withdraw  the  veil  of  our  mysteries.  That 
bugle-sound  announces  something  which  may  require  my 
presence.  Think  on  what  I  have  said.  —  Farewell  —  I 
do  not  say  forgive  me  the  violence  I  have  threatened,  for 
it  was  necessary  to  the  display  of  thy  character.  Gold 
can  be  only  known  by  the  application  of  the  touchstone..^ 
I  will  soon  return,  and  hold  further  conference  with 
thee." 

He  reentered  the  turret-chamber,  and  descended  the 
stair,  leaving  Rebecca  scarcely  more  terrified  at  the  pros- 
pect of  the  death  to  which  she  had  been  so  lately  ex- 
posed, than  at  the  furious  ambition  of  the  bold  bad  man 
in  whose  power  she  found  herself  so  unhappily  placed. 
When  she  entered  the  turret-chamber,  her  first  duty  was 
to  return  thanks  to  the  God  of  Jacob  for  the  protection 
which  He  had  afforded  her,  and  to  implore  its  continu- 
ance for  her  and  for  her  father.  Another  name  glided 
into  her  petition ;  it  was  that  of  the  wounded  Christian, 
whom  fate  had  placed  in  the  hands  of  bloodthirsty  men, 
his  avowed  enemies.  Her  heart  indeed  checked  her,  as 
if,  even  in  communir.  g  with  the  Deity  in  prayer,  she 
mingled  in  her  devotions  the  recollection  of  one  with 
whose  fate  hers  could  have  no  alliance  —  a  Nazarene, 
and  an  enemy  to  her  faith.  But  the  petition  was  already 
breathed,  nor  could  all  the  narrow  prejudices  of  her  sect 
induce  Rebecca  to  wish  it  recalled. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

A  damn'd  cramp  piece  of  penmanship  as  ever  I  saw  in  my  life! 

She  Stoops  to  Conquer. 

When  the  Templar  reached  the  hall  of  the  castle,  he 
found  T)e  Bracy  already  there.  "  Your  love-suit,"  said 
De  Bracy,  "hath,  I  suppose,  been  disturbed,  like  mine, 


IVANHOE.  245 

by  this  obstreperous  summons.  But  you  have  come  later 
and  more  reluctantly,  and  therefore  I  presume  your  in- 
terview has  proved  more  agreeable  than  mine." 

"Has  your  suit,  then,  been  unsuccessfully  paid  to  the 
Saxon  heiress  ?  "  said  the  Templar. 

"By  the  bones  of  Thomas  a  Becket,"  answered  De 
Bracy,  "  the  Lady  Rowena  must  have  heard  that  I  cannot 
endure  the  sight  of  women's  tears." 

"  Away  !  "  said  the  Templar;  "  thou  a  leader  of  a  Free 
Company,  and  regard  a  woman's  tears !  A  few  drops 
sprinkled  on  the  torch  of  love  make  the  flame  blaze  the 
brighter." 

"  Gramercy  for  the  few  drops  of  thy  sprinkling,"  re- 
plied De  Bracy ;  "  but  this  damsel  hath  wept  enough  to 
extinguish  a  beacon-light.  Never  was  such  wringing  of 
hands  and  such  overflowing  of  eyes,  since  the  days  of  St. 
Niobe,  of  whom  Prior  Aymer  told  us.  A  water-fiend 
hath  possessed  the  fair  Saxon." 

"A  legion  of  fiends  have  occupied  the  bosom  of  the 
Jewess,"  replied  the  Templar ;  "  for  I  think  no  single 
one,  not  even  Apollyon  himself,  could  have  inspired 
such  indomitable  pride  and  resolution.  —  But  where  is 
Front-de-Boeuf  ?  That  horn  is  sounded  more  and  more 
clamorously." 

"  He  is  negotiating  with  the  Jew,  I  suppose,"  replied 
De  Bracy,  coolly ;  "  probably  the  howls  of  Isaac  have 
drowned  the  blast  of  the  bugle.  Thou  mayst  know,  by 
experience,  Sir  Brian,  that  a  Jew  parting  with  his  treas- 
ures on  such  terms  as  our  friend  Front-de-Boeuf  is  like 
to  offer  will  raise  a  clamour  loud  enough  to  be  heard  , 
over  twenty  horns  and  trumpets  to  boot.  But  we  will 
make  the  vassals  call  him." 

They  were  soon  after  joined  by  Front-de-Boeuf,  who 
had  been  disturbed  in  his  tyrannic  cruelty  in  the  manner-/ 
with  which  the  reader  is  acquainted,  and  had  only  tar- 
ried to  give  some  necessary  directions.  "  Let  us  see  the 
cause  of  this  cursed  clamour,"  said  Front-de-Boeuf ;  "here 
is_a  letter,  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  it  is  in  Saxon." 

He  looked  at  it,  turning  it  "round  and  round  as  if  he 
had  had  really  some  hopes  of  coming  at  the  meaning  by 


246  IVANHGE. 

inverting  the  position  of  the  paper,  and  tnen  handed  it 
to  De  Bracy. 

"  It  may  be  magic  spells  for  aught  I  know,"  said  De 
Bracy,  who  possessed  his  full  proportion  of  the  igno- 
rance which  characterised  the  chivalry  of  the  period. 
"  Our  chaplain  attempted  to  teach  me  to  write,"  he  said, 
"but  all  my  letters  were  formed  like  spear-heads  and 
sword-blades,  and  so  the  old  shaveling  gave  up  the  task." 

"  Give  it  me,"  said  the  Templar.  "  We  have  that  of 
the  priestly  character,  that  we  have  some  knowledge  to 
enlighten  our  valour." 

"  Let  us  profit  by  your  most  reverend  knowledge, 
then,"  said  De  Bracy  ;  "  what  says  the  scroll  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  formal  letter  of  defiance,"  answered  the 
Templar;  "but,  by  our  Lady  of  Bethlehem,  if  it  be  not 
a  foolish  jest,  it  is  the  most  extraordinary  cartel  that 
ever  was  sent  across  the  drawbridge  of  a  baronial  castle." 

"Jest!  "said  Front-de-Boeuf,  "I  would  gladly  know 
who  dares  jest  with  me  in  such  a  matter.  —  Read  it,  Sir 
Brian." 

The  Templar  accordingly  read  it  as  follows : 

"I,  Wamba,  the  son  of  Witless,  jester  to  a  noble  and  freeborn 
man,  Cedric  of  Rotherwood,  called  the  Saxon  :  and  I,  Gurth,  the 
son  of  Beowulph,  the  swineherd " 

"  Thou  art  mad,"  said  Front-de-Boeuf,  interrupting  the 
reader. 

"  By  St.  Luke,  it  is  so  set  down,"  answered  the  Templar. 
Then  resuming  his  task,  he  went  on, — 

"  I,  Gurth,  the  son  of  Beowulph,  swineherd  unto  the  said  Cedric, 
with  the  assistance  of  our  allies  and  confederates,  who  make  com- 
mon cause  with  us  in  this  our  feud,  namely,  the  good  knight,  called 
for  the  present  Le  Noir  Faineant,  and  the  stout  yeoman,  Robert 
Locksley,  called  Cleave-the-Wand,  to  you,  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf , 
and  your  allies  and  accomplices  whomsoever,  to  wit,  that  whereas 
you  have,  without  cause  given  or  feud  declared,  wrongfully  and 
by  mastery  seized  upon  the  person  of  our  lord  and  master  the  said 
Cedric  ;  also  upon  the  person  of  a  noble  and  freeborn  damsel,  the 
Lady  Rowena  of  Hargottstandstede  ;  also  upon  the  person  of  a 
noble  and  freeborn  man,  Athelstane  of  Coninusburgh  ;  also  upon 
the  persons  of  certain  freeborn  men,  their  cnichts  ;  also  upon  cer- 


IVANHOE.  247 

tain  serfs,  their  born  bondsmen  ;  also  upon  a  certain  Jew,  named 
Isaac  of  York,  together  with  his  daughter,  a  Jewess,  and  certain 
horses  and  mules:  which  noble  persons,  with  their  cnichts  and 
slaves,  and  also  with  the  horses  and  mules,  Jew  and  Jewess  before- 
said,  were  all  in  peace  with  his  Majesty,  and  travelling  as  liege 
subjects  upon  the  king's  highway  ;  therefore  we  require  and  demand 
that  the  said  noble  persons,  namely,  Cedric  of  Rotherwood,  Rowena 
of  Hargottstandstede,  Athelstane  of  Coningsburgh,  with  their  ser- 
vants, cnichts,  and  followers,  also  the  horses  and  mules,  Jew  and 
Jewess  aforesaid,  together  with  all  goods  and  chattels  to  them  per- 
taining, be,  within  an  hour  after  the  delivery  hereof,  delivered  to  us, 
or  to  those  whom  we  shall  appoint  to  receive  the  same,  and  that  un- 
touched and  unharmed  in  body  and  goods.  Failing  of  which,  we 
do  pronounce  to  you,  that  we  hold  ye  as  robbers  and  traitors,  and 
will  wager  our  bodies  against  ye  in  battle,  siege,  or  otherwise,  and 
do  our  utmost  to  your  annoyance  and  destruction.  Wherefore 
may  God  have  you  in  His  keeping.  —  Signed  by  us  upon  the  eve  of 
St.  Withold's  day,  under  the  great  trysting  oak  in  the  Harthill 
Walk,  the  above  being  written  by  a  holy  man,  clerk  to  God,  our 
Lady,  and  St.  Dunstan,  in  the  chapel  of  Copmanhurst" 

At  the., bottom  of  this  document  was  scrawled,  in  the 
first  place,  a  rude  sketch  of  a  cock's  head  and  comb,  writli 
a  legend  expressing  this  hieroglyphic  to  be  the  sign- 
manual  of  AYamba,  son  of  Witless.  Under  this  respec- 
t"it>le  emblem  stood  a  cross,  stated  to  be  the  mark  of 
Gurth,  the  son  of  Beownlph.  Then  was  wrritten,  in 
rough  bold  characters,  the  words  Le  Noir  Faineant. 
And,  to  conclude  the  whole,  an  arrow,  neatly  enough 
drawn,  wTas  described  as  the  mark  of  the  yeoman 
Locksley. 

The  knights  heard  this  uncommon  document  read  from 
end  to  end,  and  then  gazed  upon  each  other  in  silent 
amazement,  a,s  being  utterly  at  a  loss  to  know  what  it 
could  portend.  De  Bracy  was  the  first  to  break  silence 
by  an  uncontrollable  fit  of  laughter,  wherein  he  was 
joined,  though  with  more  moderation,  by  the  Templar. 
Front-de-Boeuf,  on  the  contrary,  seemed  impatient  of 
their  ill-timed  jocularity.- 

"  I  give  you  plain  warning,"  he  said,  "  fair  sirs,  that 
you  had  better  consult  how  to  bear  yourselves  under 
these  circumstances  than  give  way  to  such  misplaced 
merriment." 

"  Front-de-Boeuf  has  not  recovered  his  temper  since  his 


248  IVANHOE. 

late  overthrow,"  said  De  Bracy  to  the  Templar ;  "  he  is 
cowed  at  the  very  idea  of  a  cartel,  though  it  come  but 
from  a  fool  and  a  swineherd." 

"  By  St.  Michael,"  answered  Front-de-Bceuf,  "  I  would 
thou  couldst  stand  the  whole  brunt  of  this  adventure  thy- 
self, De  Bracy.  These  fellows  dared  not  have  acted  with 
such  inconceivable  impudence,  had  they  not  been  supported 
by  some  strong  bands.  There  are  enough  of  outlaws  in 
this  forest  to  resent  my  protecting  the  deer.  I  did  but 
tie  one  fellow,  who  was  taken  red-handed  and  in  the  fact, 
to  the  horns  of  a  wild  stag,  which  gored  him  to  death  in 
five  minutes,  and  I  had  as  many  arrows  shot  at  me  as  there 
were  launched  against  yonder  target  at  Ashby.  —  Here, 
fellow,"  he  added,  to  one  of  his  attendants,  "hast  thou 
sent  out  to  see  by  what  force  this  precious  challenge  is  to 
be  supported  ?  " 

"  There  are  at  least  two  hundred  men  assembled  in  the 
woods,"  answered  the  squire  who  was  in  attendance. 

"  Here  is  a  proper  matter  !  "  said  Front-de-Bceuf ;  "  this 
comes  of  lending  you  the  use  of  my  castle,  that  cannot 
manage  your  undertaking  quietly,  but  you  must  bring  this 
nest  of  hornets  about  my  ears  !  " 

"  Of  hornets  ! "  said  De  Bracy ;  "  of  stingless  drones 
rather ;  a  band  of  lazy  knaves,  who  take  to  the  wood  and 
destroy  the  venison  rather  than  labour  for  their  mainte- 
nance ! " 

"Stingless!"  replied  ,  Front-de-Bceuf ;  "fork-headed 
shafts  of  a  cloth-yard  in  length,  and  these  shot  within  the 
breadth  of  a  French  crown,  are  sting  enough." 

"  For  shame,  Sir  Knight !  "  said  the  Templar.  "Let  us 
summon  our  people  and  sally  forth  upon  them.  One 
knight  —  ay,  one  man-at-arms,  were  enough  for  twenty 
such  peasants." 

"  Enough,  and  too  much,"  said  De  Bracy ;  "  I  should 
only  be  ashamed  to  couch  lance  against  them." 

"  True,"  answered  Front-de-Bceuf ;  "  were  they  black 
Turks  or  Moors,  Sir  Templar,  or  the  craven  peasants  of 
France,  most  valiant  De  Bracy ;  but  these  are  English  yeo- 
men, over  whom  we  shall  have  no  advantage,  save  what 
we  may  derive  from  our  arms  and  horses,  which  will  avail 


IVANHOE.  249 

us  little  in  the  glades  of  the  forest.  Sally,  saidst  thou  ? 
We  have  scarce  men  enough  to  defend  the  castle.  The 
best  of  mine  are  at  York  ;  so  is  all  your  band,  De  Bracy  ; 
and  we  have  scarcely  twenty,  besides  the  handful  that 
were  engaged  in  this  mad  business." 

"  Thou  dost  not  fear,"  said  the  Templar,  "  that  they  can 
assemble  in  force  sufficient  to  attempt  the  castle  ?  " 

"  Not  so,  Sir  Brian,"  answered  Front-de-Boeuf.  "  These 
outlaws  have  indeed  a  daring  captain ;  but  without  ma- 
chines, scaling  ladders,  and  experienced  leaders,  my  castle 
may  defy  them." 

"  Send  to  thy  neighbours,"  said  the  Templar ;  "  let  them 
assemble  their  people  and  come  to  the  rescue  of  three 
knights,  besieged  by  a  jester  and  a  swineherd  in  the  baro- 
nial castle  of  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf !  " 

"You  jest,  Sir  Knight,"  answered  the  baron;  "but  to 
whom  should  I  send  ?  Malvoisin  is  by  this  time  at  York 
with  his  retainers,  and  so  are  my  other  allies ;  and  so 
should  I  have  been,  but  for  this  infernal  enterprise." 

"  Then  send  to  York  and  recall  our  people,"  said  De 
Bracy.  "  If  they  abide  the  shaking  of  my  standard,  or 
the  sight  of  my  Free  Companions,  I  will  give  them  credit 
for  the  boldest  outlaws  ever  bent  bow  in  greenwood." 

"  And  who  shall  bear  such  a  message  ?  "  said  Front-de- 
Boeuf ;  "  they  will  beset  every  path,  and  rip  the  errand  out 
of  his  bosom.  —  I  have  it,"  he  added,  after  pausing  for  a 
moment.  "  Sir  Templar,  thou  canst  write  as  well  as  read, 
and  if  we  can  but  find  the  writing  materials  of  my  chaplain, 
who  died  a  twelvemonth  since  in  the  midst  of  his  Christ- 
mas carousals 

"  So  please  ye,"  said  the  squire,  who  was  still  in  attend- 
ance, "  I  think  old  Urfried  has  them  somewhere  in  keep- 
ing, for  love  of  the  confessor.  He  was  the  last  man,  I 
have  heard  her  tell,  who  ever  said  aught  to  her  which  man 
ought  in  courtesy  to  address  to  maid  or  matron." 

"  Go,  search  them  out,  Engelred,"  said  Front-de-Boeuf ; 
"  and  then,  Sir  Templar,  thou  shalt  return  an  answer  to 
this  bold  challenge." 

"  T  would  rather  do  it  at  the  sword's  point  than  at  that 
of  the  pen,"  said  Bois-Guilbert ;  "  but  be  it  as  you  will." 


250  IV AN  HOE. 

He  sat  down  accordingly,  and  indicted,  in  the  French 
language,  an  epistle  of  the  following  tenor  : 

"  Sir  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf,  with  his  noble  and  knightly  allies 
and  confederates,  receive  no  defiances  at  the  hands  of  slaves, 
bondsmen,  or  fugitives.  If  the  person  calling  himself  the  Black 
Knight  have  indeed  a  claim  to  the  honours  of  chivalry,  he  ought 
to  know  that  he  stands  degraded  by  his  present  association,  and_ 
has  no  right  to  ask  reckoning  at  the  hands  of  good  men  of  noble 
blood.  Touching  the  prisoners  we  have  made,  we  do  in  Christian 
charity  require  you  to  send  a  man  of  religion  to  receive  their  con- 
fession and  reconcile  them  with  God  ;  since  it  is  our  fixed  intention 
to  execute  them  this  morning  before  noon,  so  that  their  heads, 
being  placed  on  the  battlements,  shall  show  to  all  men  how  lightly 
we  esteem  those  who  have  bestirred  themselves  in  their  rescue. 
Wherefore,  as  above,  we  require  you  to  send  a  priest  to  reconcile 
them  to  God,  in  doing  which  you  shall  render  them  the  last  earthly 
service." 

This  letter,  being  folded,  was  delivered  to  the  squire, 
and  by  him  to  the  messenger  who  waited  without,  as  the 
answer  to  that  which  he  had  brought. 

The  yeoman,  having  thus  accomplished  his  mission, 
returned  to  the  headquarters  of  the  allies,  which  were  for 
the  present  established  under  a  venerable  oak  tree,  about 
three  arrow-flights  distant  from  the  castle.  Here  Wamba 
and  Grurth,  with  their  allies  the  Black  Knight  and  Locks- 
ley,  and  the  jovial  hermit,  awaited  with  impatience  an 
answer  to  their  summons.  Around,  and  at  a  distance 
from  them,  were  seen  many  a  bold  yeoman,  whose  silvan 
dress  and  weatherbeaten  countenances  showed  the  ordi- 
nary nature  of  their  occupation.  More  than  two  hundred 
had  already  assembled,  and  others  were  fast  coming  in. 
Those  whom  they  obeyed  as  leaders  were  only  distin- 
guished from  the  others  by  a  feather  in  the  cap,  their 
dress,  arms,  and  equipments  being  in  all  other  respects 
the  same. 

Besides  these  bands,  a  less  orderly  and  a  worse-armed 
force,  consisting  of  the  Saxon  inhabitants  of  the  neigh- 
bouring township,  as  well  as  many  bondsmen  and  ser- 
vants from  Cedric's  extensive  estate,  had  already  arrived, 
for  the  purpose  of  assisting  in  his  rescue.  Few  of  these 
were  armed  otherwise  than  with  such  rustic  weapons  as 


IVAN  HOE.  251 

necessity  sometimes  converts  to  military  purposes.  Boar- 
spears,  scythes,  flails,  and  the  like,  were  their  chief  arms  ; 
for  the  Normans,  with  the  usual  policy  of  conquerors, 
were  jealous  of  permitting  to  the  vanquished  Saxons  the 
possession  or  the  use  of  swords  and  spears.  These  cir- 
cumstances rendered  the  assistance  of  the  Saxons  far 
from  being  so  formidable  to  the  besieged  as  the  strength 
of  the  men  themselves,  their  superior  numbers,  and  the 
animation  inspired  by  a  just  cause,  might  otherwise  well 
have  made  them.  It  was  to  the  leaders  of  this  motley 
army  that  the  letter  of  the  Templar  was  now  delivered. 

Reference  was  at  first  made  to  the  chaplain  for  an  ex- 
position of  its  contents. 

"  By  the  crook  of  St.  Dunstan,"  said  that  worthy  eccle- 
siastic, "  which  hath  brought  more  sheep  within  the  sheep- 
fold  than  the  crook  of  e'er  another  saint  in  Paradise,  I 
swear  that  I  cannot  expound  unto  you  this  jargon,  which, 
whether  it  be  French  or  Arabic,  is  beyond  my  guess." 

He  then  gave  the  letter  to  Grurth,  who  shook  his  head 
gruffly,  and  passed  it  to  Wamba.  The  Jester  looked  at 
each  of  the  four  corners  of  the  paper  with  such  a  grin 
of  affected  intelligence  as  a  monkey  is  apt  to  assume 
upon  similar  occasions,  then  cut  a  caper,  and  gave  the 
letter  to  Locksley. 

"  If  the  long  letters  were  bows,  and  the  short  letters 
broad  arrows,  I  might  know  something  of  the  matter," 
said  the  brave  yeoman ;  "  but  as  the  matter  stands,  the 
meaning  is  as  safe,  for  me,  as  the  stag  that's  at  twelve 
miles'  distance." 

"  I  must  be  clerk,  then,"  said  the  Black  Knight ;  and 
taking  the  letter  from  Locksley,  he  first  read  it  over  to 
himself,  and  then  explained  the  meaning  in  Saxon  to  his 
confederates. 

"  Execute  the  noble  Cedric  ?  "  exclaimed  Wamba ;  "  by 
the  rood,  thou  must  be  mistaken,  Sir  Knight." 

"  Not  I,  my  worthy  friend,"  replied  the  knight,  "  I 
have  explained  the  words  as  they  are  here  set  down." 

"Then  by  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury,"  replied  Gurth, 
"we  will  have  the  castle,  should  we  tear  it  down  with 
our  hands ! " 


252  IVANHOE. 

"We  have  nothing  else  to  tear  it  with,"  replied 
Wamba;  "but  mine  are  scarce  tit  to  make  mammocks 
of  freestone  and  mortar." 

"  'Tis  but  a  contrivance  to  gain  time,"  said  Locksley ; 
"  they  dare  not  do  a  deed  for  which  I  could  exact  a  fear- 
ful penalty." 

"  I  would,"  said  the  Black  Knight,  "  there  were  some 
one  among  us  who  could  obtain  admission  into  the  castle, 
and  discover  how  the  case  stands  with  the  besieged.  Me- 
thinks,  as  they  require  a  confessor  to  be  sent,  this  holy 
hermit  might  at  once  exercise  his  pious  vocation,  and  pro- 
cure us  the  information  we  desire." 

"  A  plague  on  thee  and  thy  advice ! "  said  the  pious 
hermit ;  "  I  tell  thee,  Sir  Slothful  Knight,  that  when  I 
doif  my  friar's  frock,  my  priesthood,  my  sanctity,  my 
very  Latin,  are  put  off  along  with  it ;  and  when  in  my 
green  jerkin,  I  can  better  kill  twenty  deer  than  confess 
one  Christian." 

"I  fear,"    said  the  Black  Knight  —  "I   fear   greatly 
there  is  no  one  here  that  is  qualified  to  take  upon  him 
for  the  nonce,  this  same  character  of  father  confessor  \ 

All  looked  on  each  other,  and  were  silent. 

"  I  see,"  said  Wamba,  after  a  short  pause,  "  that  the 
fool  must  be  still  the  fool,  and  put  his  neck  in  the  ven- 
ture which  wise  men  shrink  from.  You  must  know,  my 
dear  cousins  and  countrymen,  that  I  wore  russet  before 
I  wore  motley,  and  was  bred  to  be  a  friar,  until  a  brain- 
fever  came  upon  me  and  left  me  just  enough  wit  to  be  a 
fool.  I  trust,  with  the  assistance  of  the  good  hermit's 
frock,  together  with  the  priesthood,  sanctity,  and  learn- 
ing which  are  stitched  into  the  cowl  of  it,  I  shall  be  found 
qualified  to  administer  both  worldly  and  ghostly  comfort 
to  our  worthy  master  Cedric  and  his  companions  in  ad- 
versity." 

"Hath  he  sense  enough,  thinkst  thou?"  said  the 
Black  Knight,  addressing  Gurth. 

"  I  know  not,"  said  Gurth ;  "  but  if  he  hath  not,  it  will 
be  the  first  time  he  hath  wanted  wit  to  turn  his  folly  to 
account." 

"On  with   the  frock,  then,  good   fellow,"    quoth    the 


IVANHOE.  253 

Knight,  "and  let  thy  master  send  us  an  account  of 
their  situation  within  the  castle.  Their  numbers  must 
be  few,  and  it  is  rive  to  one  they  may  be  accessible  by  a 
sudden  and  bold  attack.     Time  wears  —  away  with  thee." 

"And,  in  the  meantime,"  said  Locksley,  "we  will  be- 
set the  place  so  closely  that  not  so  much  as  a  fly  shall 
carry  news  from  thence.  So  that,  my  good  friend,"  he 
continued,  addressing  Wamba,  "  thou  mayst  assure  these 
tyrants  that  whatever  violence  they  exercise  on  the  per- 
sons of  their  prisoners  shall  be  most  severely  repaid  upon 
their  own." 

"Pax  vobiscum"  said  Wamba,  who  was  now  muffled 
in  his  religious  disguise. 

And  so  saying,  he  imitated  the  solemn  and  stately  de- 
portment of  a  friar,  and  departed  to  execute  his  mission. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

The  hottest  horse  will  oft  be  cool, 

The  dullest  will  show  fire  ; 
The  friar  will  often  play  the  fool, 

The  fool  will  play  the  friar. 

Old  Song. 

When  the  Jester,  arrayed  in  the  cowl  and  frock  of  the 
hermit,  and  having  his  knotted  cord  twisted  round  his 
middle,  stood  before  the  portal  of  the  castle  of  Front- 
de-Bceuf,  the  warder  demanded  of  him  his  name  and 
errand. 

"Pax  vobiscum"  answered  the  Jester,  "I  am  a  poor 
brother  of  the  Order  of  St.  Francis,  who  come  hither  to 
do  my  office  to  certain  unhappy  prisoners  now  secured 
within  this  castle." 

"Thou  art  a  bold  friar,"  said  the  warder,  "to  come 
hither,  where,  saving  our  own  drunken  confessor,  a  cock 
of  thy  feather  hath  not  crowed  these  twenty  years." 

"  Yet  I  pray  thee,  do  mine  errand  to  the  lord  of  the 
castle,"  answered  the  pretended  friar ;  "  trust  me,  it  will 
find  good  acceptance  with  him,  and  the  cock  shall  crow 
that  the  whole  castle  shall  hear  him." 


254  IVAN  HOE. 

"  Gramercy,"  said  the  warder ;  "  but  if  I  come  to  shame 
for  leaving  my  post  upon  thine  errand,  I  will  try  whether 
a  friar's  grey  gown  be  proof  against  a  grey-goose  shaft." 

With  this  threat  he  left  his  turret,  and  carried  to  the 
hall  of  the  castle  his  unwonted  intelligence,  that  a  holy 
friar  stood  before  the  gate  and  demanded  instant  admis- 
sion. With  no  small  wonder  he  received  his  master's 
commands  to  admit  the  holy  man  immediately;  and, 
having  previously  manned  the  entrance  to  guard  against 
surprise,  he  obeyed,  without  further  scruple,  the  com- 
mands which  he  had  received.  The  hairbrained  self- 
conceit  which  had  emboldened  Wamba  to  undertake  this 
dangerous  office  was  scarce  sufficient  to  support  him 
when  he  found  himself  in  the  presence  of  a  man  so  dread- 
ful, and  so  much  dreaded,  as  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf, 
and  he  brought  out  his  Pax  vobiscum,  to  which  he,  in  a 
good  measure,  trusted  for  supporting  his  character,  with 
more  anxiety  and  hesitation  than  had  hitherto  accom- 
panied it.  But  Front-de-Boeuf  was  accustomed  to  see 
men  of  all  ranks  tremble  in  his  presence,  so  that  the 
timidity  of  the  supposed  father  did  not  give  him  any 
cause  of  suspicion.  "  Who  and  whence  art  thou,  priest  ?  n 
said  he. 

"Pax  vobiscum,"  reiterated  the  Jester ;  "  I  am  a  poor 
servant  of  St.  Francis,  who,  travelling  through  this  wil- 
derness, have  fallen  among  thieves  as  Scripture  hath 
it  —  quidam  viator  incidit  in  latrones  —  which  thieves 
have  sent  me  unto  this  castle  in  order  to  do  my  ghostly 
office  on  two  persons  condemned  by  your  honourable 
justice." 

"  Ay,  right,"  answered  Front-de-Boeuf ;  "  and  canst 
thou  tell  me,  holy  father,  the  number  of  those  banditti  ?  " 

"  Gallant  sir,"  answered  the  Jester,  "  nomen  illis  legio 
—  their  name  is  legion." 

"  Tell  me  in  plain  terms  what  numbers  there  are,  or, 
priest,  thy  cloak  and  cord  will  ill  protect  thee." 

"  Alas  ! "  said  the  supposed  friar,  "  cor  meum  eructavit, 
that  is  to  say,  I  was  like  to  burst  with  fear  !  but  I  con- 
ceive they  may  be,  what  of  yeomen,  what  of  commons, 
at  least  rive  hundred  men." 


IVANHOE.  255 

"  What !  "  said  the  Templar,  who  came  into  the  hall 
that  moment,  "  muster  the  wasps  so  thick  here  ?  It  is 
time  to  stifle  such  a  mischievous  brood."  Then  taking 
Front-de-Bceuf  aside,  "  Knowest  thou  the  priest  ?  " 

'•'He  is  a  stranger  from  a  distant  convent,"  said  Front- 
de-Boeuf ;  "  I  know  him  not." 

"  Then  trust  him  not  with  thy  purpose  in  words,"  an- 
swered the  Templar.  "  Let  him  carry  a  written  order  to 
De  Bracy's  company  of  Free  Companions,  to  repair  in- 
stantly to  their  master's  aid.  In  the  meantime,  and  that 
the  shaveling  may  suspect  nothing,  permit  him  to  go 
freely  about  his  task  of  preparing  these  Saxon  hogs  for 
the  slaughter-house." 

"  It  shall  be  so,"  said  Front-de-Bceuf .  And  he  forth- 
with appointed  a  domestic  to  conduct  Wamba  to  the 
apartment  where  Cedric  and  Athelstane  were  confined. 

The  impatience  of  Cedric  had  been  rather  enhanced 
than  diminished  by  his  confinement.  He  walked  from 
one  end  of  the  hall  to  the  other,  with  the  attitude  of  one 
who  advances  to  charge  an  enemy,  or  to  storm  the  breach 
of  a  beleaguered  place,  sometimes  ejaculating  to  himself, 
sometimes  addressing  Athelstane,  who  stoutly  and  stoi- 
cally awaited  the  issue  of  the  adventure,  digesting,  in  the 
meantime,  with  great  composure,  the  liberal  meal  which 
he  had  made  at  noon,  and  not  greatly  interesting  himself 
about  the  duration  of  his  captivity,  which  he  concluded 
would,  like  all  earthly  evils,  find  an  end  in  Heaven's 
good  time. 

"Pax  vobiscum"  said  the  Jester,  entering  the  apart- 
ment; "the  blessing  of  St.  Dunstan,  St.  Denis,  St.  Du- 
thoc,  and  all  other  saints  whatsoever,  be  upon  ye  and 
about  ye." 

"  Enter  freely,"  answered  Cedric  to  the  supposed  friar ; 
"  with  what  intent  art  thou  come  hither  ?  " 

"  To  bid  you  prepare  yourselves  for  death,"  answered 
the  Jester. 

"It  is  impossible!"  replied  Cedric,  starting.  "Fear- 
less and  wicked  as  they  are,  they  dare  not  attempt  such 
open  and  gratuitous  cruelty !  " 

"  Alas ! "  said  the  Jester,  "  to  restrain  them  by  their 


256  IVANHOE. 

sense  of  humanity  is  the  same  as  to  stop  a  runaway  horse 
with  a  bridle  of  silk  thread.  Bethink  thee,  therefore, 
noble  Cedric,  and  you  also,  gallant  Athelstane,  what 
crimes  you  have  committed  in  the  flesh;  for  this  very 
day  will  ye  be  called  to  answer  at  a  higher  tribunal." 

"  Hearest  thou  this,  Athelstane  ?  "  said  Cedric.  "  We 
must  rouse  up  our  hearts  to  this  last  action,  since  better 
it  is  we  should  die  like  men  than  live  like  slaves." 

"  I  am  ready,"  answered  Athelstane,  "  to  stand  the 
worst  of  their  malice,  and  shall  walk  to  my  death  with 
as  much  composure  as  ever  I  did  to  my  dinner." 

"  Let  us,  then,  unto  our  holy  gear,  father,"  said  Cedric. 

"  Wait  yet  a  moment,  good  uncle,"  said  the  Jester,  in 
his  natural  tone ;  "  better  look  long  before  you  leap  in 
the  dark." 

"  By  my  faith,"  said  Cedric,  "  I  should  know  that 
voice!" 

"  It  is  that  of  your  trusty  slave  and  jester, "  answered 
Wamba,  throwing  back  his  cowl.  "Had  you  taken  a 
fool's  advice  formerly,  you  would  not  have  been  here  at 
all.  Take  a  fool's  advice  now,  and  you  will  not  be  here 
long." 

"  How  mean'st  thou,  knave  ?  "  answered  the  Saxon. 

"Even  thus,"  replied  Wamba;  "take  thou  this  frock 
and  cord,  which  are  all  the  orders  I  ever  had,  and  march 
quietly  out  of  the  castle,  leaving  me  your  cloak  and 
girdle  to  take  the  long  leap  in  thy  stead." 

"Leave  thee  in  my  stead!"  said  Cedric,  astonished  at 
the  proposal ;  "  why,  they  would  hang  thee,  my  poor 
knave." 

"E'en  let  them  do  as  they  are  permitted,"  said  Wamba', 
"I  trust  —  no  disparagement  to  your  birth — that  the 
son  of  Witless  may  hang  in  a  chain  with  as  much  gravity 
as  the  chain  hung  upon  his  ancestor  the  alderman." 

"Well,  Wamba,"  answered  Cedric,  "for  one  thing  will  I 
grant  thy  request.  And  that  is,  if  thou  wilt  make  the  ex- 
change of  garments  with  Lord  Athelstane  instead  of  me." 

"No,  by  St.  Dunstan,"  answered  Wamba;  "there  were 
little  reason  in  that.  Good  right  there  is  that  the  son  of 
Witless  should  suffer  to  save  the  son  of  Here  ward;  but 


IVANHOE.  257 

little  wisdom  there  were  in  his  dying  for  the  benefit  of 
one  whose  fathers  were  strangers  to  his." 

"Villain,"  said  Cedric,  "the  fathers  of  Athelstane  were 
monarchs  of  England  ! " 

"They  might  be  whomsoever  they  pleased/'  replied 
Wamba;  "but  my  neck  stands  too  straight  upon  my 
shoulders  to  have  it  twisted  for  their  sake.  Wherefore, 
good  my  master,  either  take  my  proffer  yourself  or  suffer 
me  to  leave  this  dungeon  as  free  as  I  entered." 

"Let  the  old  tree  wither,"  continued  Cedric,  "so  the 
stately  hope  of  the  forest  be  preserved.  Save  the  noble 
Athelstane,  my  trusty  Wamba !  it  is  the  duty  of  each  who 
has  Saxon  blood  in  his  veins.  Thou  and  I  will  abide  to- 
gether the  utmost  rage  of  our  injurious  oppressors,  while 
he,  free  and  safe,  shall  arouse  the  awakened  spirits  of  our 
countrymen  to  avenge  us." 

"Not  so,  father  Cedric,"  said  Athelstane,  grasping  his 
hand  —  for,  when  roused  to  think  or  act,  his  deeds  and 
sentiments  were  not  unbecoming  his  high  race  —  "not  so," 
he  continued ;  "  I  would  rather  remain  in  this  hall  a  week 
without  food  save  the  prisoner's  stinted  loaf,  or  drink 
save  the  prisoner's  measure  of  water,  than  embrace  the 
opportunity  to  escape  which  the  slave's  untaught  kindness 
has  purveyed  for  his  master." 

"You  are  called  wise  men,  sirs,"  said  the  Jester,  "and 
I  a  crazed  fool ;  but,  uncle  Cedric  and  cousin  Athelstane, 
the  fool  shall  decide  this  controversy  for  ye,  and  save  ye 
the  trouble  of  straining  courtesies  any  farther.  I  am  like 
John-a-Duck  's  mare,  that  will  let  no  man  mount  her  but 
John-a-Duck.  I  came  to  save  my  master,  and  if  he  will 
not  consent,  basta!  I  can  but  go  away  home  again.  Kind 
service  cannot  be  chucked  from  hand  to  hand  like  a 
shuttle-cock  or  stool-ball.  I  '11  hang  for  no  man  but  my 
own  born  master." 

"Go,  then,  noble  Cedric,"  said  Athelstane,  "neglect  not 
this  opportunity.  Your  presence  without  may  encourage 
friends  to  our  rescue;  your  remaining  here  would  ruin  us 
all." 

"And  is  there  any  prospect,  then,  of  rescue  from  with 
out  ?  "  said  Cedric,  looking  to  the  Jester, 
s 


258  IVAN-HOE. 

"Prospect,  indeed!"  echoed  Wamba;  "let  me  tell  you, 
when  you  fill  my  cloak,  you  are  wrapped  in  a  general's 
cassock.  Five  hundred  men  are  there  without,  and  I 
was  this  morning  one  of  their  chief  leaders.  My  fool's 
cap  was  a  casque,  and  my  bauble  a  truncheon.  Well,  we 
shall  see  what  good  they  will  make  by  exchanging  a  fool 
for  a  wise  man.  Truly,  I  fear  they  will  lose  in  valour 
what  they  may  gain  in  discretion.  And  so  farewell, 
master,  and  be  kinchto  poor  G-urth  and  his  dog  Fangs; 
and  let  my/cockscomb  hang  in  the  hall  at  Rotherwood,  in 
memory  that  t-fiung  away  my  life  for  my  master,  like  a 
faitrlful  —  fool."  "The  last  word  came  out  with  a  sort, of 
doable  expression,  betwixt  jest  and  earnest. 

The  tears  stood  in  Cedric's  eyes.  "  Thy  memory  shall 
be  preserved,"  he  said,  "  while  fidelity  and  affection  have 
honour  upon  earth!  But  that  I  trust  I  shall  find  the 
means  of  saving  Rowena,  and  thee,  Athelstane,  and  thee 
also,  my  poor  Wamba,  thou  shouldst  not  overbear  me  in 
this  matter." 

The  exchange  of  dress  was  now  accomplished,  when  a 
sudden  doubt  struck  Cedric. 

"I  know  no  language,"  he  said,  "but  my  own,  and  a 
few  words  of  their  mincing  Norman.  How  shall  I  bear 
myself  like  a  reverend  brother  ?  " 

"  The  spell  lies  in  two  words,"  replied  Wamba.  "  Pax 
vobiscum  will  answer  all  queries.  If  you  go  or  come,  eat 
or  drink,  bless  or  ban,  Pa>x  vobiscum  carries  you  through 
it  all.  It  is  as  useful  to  a  friar  as  a  broomstick  to  a  witch, 
or  a  wand  to  a  conjurer.  Speak  it  but  thus,  in  a  deep 
grave  tone  —  Pax  vobiscum  —  it  is  irresistible.  Watch 
and  ward,  knight  and  squire,  foot  and  horse,  it  acts  as  a 
charm  upon  them  all.  I  think,  if  they  bring  me  out  to 
be  hanged  to-morrow,  as  is  much  to  be  doubted  they  may, 
I  will  try  its  weight  upon  the  finisher  of  the  sentence." 

"If  such  prove  the  case,"  said  his  master,  "my  religious 
orders  are  soon  taken  —  Pax  vobiscum.  I  trust  I  shall 
remember  the  password.  —  Noble  Athelstane,  farewell; 
and  farewell,  my  poor  boy,  whose  heart  might  make 
amends  for  a  weaker  head ;  I  will  save  you,  or  return  and 
die  with  you.     The  royal  blood  of  our  Saxon  kings  shall 


IVANHOE.  259 

not  be  spilt  while  mine  beats  in  my  veins ;  nor  shall  one 
hair  fall  from  the  head  of  the  kind  knave  who  risked 
himseli  for  his  master,  if  Cedric's  peril  can  prevent  it. — 
Farewell." 

"Farewell,  noble  Cedrie,"  said  Athelstane;  "remember, 
it  is  the  trne  part  of  a  friar  to  accept  refreshment,  if  you 
are  offered  any." 

"  Farewell,  uncle,"  added  Wamba ;  "  and  remember  Pax 
vobiscum. " 

Thus  exhorted,  Cedrie  sallied  forth  upon  his  expedition ; 
and  it  was  not  long  ere  he  had  occasion  to  try  the  force 
of  that  spell  which  his  Jester  had  recommended  as  omnip- 
otent. In  a  low-arched  and  dusky  passage,  by  which  he 
endeavoured  to  work  his  way  to  the  hall  of  the  castle, 
he  was  interrupted  by  a  female  form. 

"Pax  vobiscum!"  said  the  pseudo  friar,  and  was  en- 
deavouring to  hurry  past,  when  a  soft  voice  replied,  "  Et 
vobis;  quaiso,  domine  reverendissime,  pro  misericordia 
vestro," 

"  I  am  somewhat  deaf, "  replied  Cedrie,  in  good  Saxon, 
and  at  the  same  time  muttered  to  himself,  "A  curse  on 
the  fool  and  his  Pax  vobiscum!  I  have  lost  my  javelin 
at  the  first  cast." 

It  was,  however,  no  unusual  thing  for  a  priest  of  those 
days  to  be  deaf  of  his  Latin  ear,  and  this  the  person  who 
now  addressed  Cedrie  knew  full  well. 

"I  pray  you  of  dear  love,  reverend  father,"  she  replied 
in  his  own  language,  "that  you  will  deign  to  visi"1"  with 
your  ghostly  comfort  a  wounded  prisoner  of  this  castle, 
and  have  such  compassion  upon  him  and  us  as  thy  holy 
office  teaches. — Never  shall  good  deed  so  highly  ad- 
vantage thy  convent." 

"  Daughter,"  answered  Cedrie,  much  embarrassed,  "  my 
time  in  this  castle  will  not  permit  me  to  exercise  the 
duties  of  mine  office.  I  must  presently  forth  —  there  is 
life  and  death  upon  my  speed." 

"'Yet,  father,  let  me  entreat  you  by  the  vow  you  have 
taken  on  you,"  replied  the  suppliant,  "not  to  leave  the 
oppressed  and  endangered  without  counsel  or  succour." 

"  May  the  fiend  fly  away  with  me,  and  leave  me  in  Ifrin 


260  IVANHOE. 

with  the  souls  of  Odin  and  of  Thor !  "  answered  Cedric,  im- 
patiently, and  would  probably  have  proceeded  in  the  same 
tone  of  total  departure  from  his  spiritual  character,  when 
the  colloquy  was  interrupted  by  the  harsh  vcuce  of  Urf  ried, 
the  old  crone  of  the  turret. 

"How,  minion,"  said  she  to  the  female  speaker,  "is 
this  the  manner  in  which  you  requite  the  kindness  which 
permitted  thee  to  leave  thy  prison-cell  yonder? — Puttest 
thou  the  reverend  man  to  use  ungracious  language  to  free 
himself  from  the  importunities  of  a  Jewess  ?  " 

"A  Jewess!"  said  Cedric,  availing  himself  of  the  in- 
formation to  get  clear  of  their  interruption.  "Let  me 
pass,  woman !  stop  me  not  at  your  peril.  I  am  fresh  from 
my  holy  office,  and  would  avoid  pollution." 

"Come  this  way,  father,"  said  the  old  hag,  "thou  art  a 
stranger  in  this  castle,  and  canst  not  leave  it  without  a 
guide.  Come  thither,  for  I  would  speak  with  thee. —  And 
you,  daughter  of  an  accursed  race,  go  to  the  sick  man's 
chamber,  and  tend  him  until  my  return ;  and  woe  betide 
you  if  you  again  quit  it  without  my  permission ! " 

Rebecca  retreated.  Her  importunities  had  prevailed 
upon  Urf  ried  to  suffer  her  to-  quit  the  turret,  and  Urfried 
had  employed  her  services  where  she  herself  would  most 
gladly  have  paid  them,  by  the  bedside  of  the  wounded 
Ivanhoe.  With  an  understanding  awake  to  their  danger- 
ous situation,  and  prompt  to  avail  herself  of  each  means 
of  safety  which  occurred,  Rebecca  had  hoped  something 
from  the  presence  of  a  man  of  religion,  who,  she  learned 
from  Urfried,  had  penetrated  into  this  godless  castle. 
She  watched  the  return  of  the  supposed  ecclesiastic,  with 
the  purpose  of  addressing  him,  and  interesting  him  in 
favour  of  the  prisoners ;  with  what  imperfect  success  the 
reader  has  been  just  acquainted. 


IVANHOE.  261 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

Fond  wretch !  and  what  canst  thou  relate, 

But  deeds  of  sorrow,  shame,  and  sin  ? 
Thy  deeds  are  proved  —  thou  know  'st  thy  fate; 

But  come,  thy  tale!  begin  —  begin. 

•  •••••« 

But  I  have  griefs  of  other  kind, 

Troubles  and  sorrows  more  severe; 
Give  me  to  ease  my  tortured  mind, 

Lend  to  my  woes  a  patient  ear; 
And  let  me,  if  I  may  not  find 

A  friend  to  help,  find  one  to  hear. 

Crabbe's  Hall  of  Justice. 

When  Urfried  had  with  clamours  and  menaces  driven 
Rebecca  back  to  the  apartment  from  which  she  had  sallied, 
she  proceeded  to  conduct  the  unwilling  Cedric  into  a 
small  apartment,  the  door  of  which  she  needfully  secured. 
Then  fetching  from  a  cupboard  a  stoup  of  wine  and  two 
flagons,  she  placed  them  on  the  table,  and  said  in  a  tone 
rather  asserting  a  fact  than  asking  a  question,  "  Thou  art 
Saxon,  father.  Deny  it  not,"  she  continued,  observing 
that  Cedric  hastened  not  to  reply;  "the  sounds  of  my 
native  language  are  sweet  to  mine  ears,  though  seldom 
heard  save  from  the  tongues  of  the  wretched  and  de- 
graded serfs  on  whom  the  proud  Normans  impose  the 
meanest  drudgery  of  this  dwelling.  Thou  art  a  Saxon, 
father — a  Saxon,  and,  save  as  thou  art  a  servant  of  God, 
a  freeman. —  Thine  accents  are  sweet  in  mine  ear." 

"  Do  not  Saxon  priests  visit  this  castle,  then  ?  "  replied 
Cedric ;  "  it  were,  methinks,  their  duty  to  comfort  the  out- 
cast and  oppressed  children  of  the  soil." 

"  They  come  not  —  or  if  they  come,  they  better  love  to 
revel  at  the  boards  of  their  conquerors,"  answered  Urfried, 
"than  to  hear  the  groans  of  their  countrymen;  so,  at  least, 
report  speaks  of  them,  of  myself  I  can  say  little.  This 
castle,  for  ten  years,  has  opened  to  no  priests  save  the  de- 
bauched Norman  chaplain  who  partook  the  nightly  revels 
of  Front-de-Bceuf,  and  he  has  been  long  gone  to  render 
an  account  of  his  stewardship. —  But  thou  art  a  Saxon 
> — a  Saxon  priest,  and  I  have  one  question  to  ask  of  thee." 


262  IVANHOE. 

"I  am  a  Saxon,"  answered  Cedric,  "but  unworthy, 
surely,  of  the  name  of  priest.  Let  me  begone  on  my 
way,  —  I  swear  I  will  return,  or  send  one  of  our  fathers 
more  worthy  to  hear  your  confession." 

"  Stay  yet  a  while,"  said  Urfried ;  "  the  accents  of  the 
voice  which  thou  nearest  now  will  soon  be  choked  with 
the  cold  earth,  and  I  would  not  descend  to  it  like  the 
beast  I  have  lived.  But  wine  must  give  me  strength  to 
tell  the  horrors  of  my  tale."  She  poured  out  a  cup,  and 
drank  it  with  a  frightful  avidity,  which  seemed  desirous 
of  draining  the  last  drop  in  the  goblet.  "  It  stupefies," 
she  said,  looking  upwards  as  she  finished  her  draught, 
"but  it  cannot  cheer.  Partake  it,  father,  if  you  would 
hear  my  tale  without  sinking  down  upon  the  pavement." 
Cedric  would  have  avoided  pledging  her  in  this  ominous 
conviviality,  but  the  sign  which  she  made  to  him  ex- 
pressed impatience  and  despair.  He  complied  with  her 
request,  and  answered  her  challenge  in  a  large  wine-cup  ; 
she  then  proceeded  with  her  story,  as  if  appeased  by  his 
complaisance. 

"  I  was  not  born,"  she  said,  "  father,  the  wretch  that 
thou  now  seest  me.  I  was  free,  was  happy,  was  hon- 
oured, loved,  and  was  beloved.  I  am  now  a  slave, 
miserable  and  degraded,  the  sport  of  my  masters'  pas- 
sions while  I  had  yet  beauty,  the  object  of  their  contempt, 
scorn,  and  hatred,  since  it  has  passed  away.  Dost  thou 
wonder,  father,  that  I  should  hate  mankind,  and,  above 
all,  the  race  that  has  wrought  this  change  in  me  ?  Can 
the  wrinkled  decrepit  hag  before  thee,  whose  wrath  must 
vent  itself  in  impotent  curses,  forget  she  was  once  the 
daughter  of  the  noble  thane  of  Torquil stone,  before 
whose  frown  a  thousand  vassals  trembled  ? " 

"  Thou  the  daughter  of  Torquil  Wolfganger ! "  said 
Cedric,  receding  as  he  spoke;  "thou  —  thou — the 
daughter  of  that  noble  Saxon,  my  father's  friend  and 
companion  in  arms  !  " 

"  Thy  father's  friend !  "  echoed  Urfried ;  "  then  Cedric 
called  the  Saxon  stands  before  me,  for  the  noble  Here- 
ward  of  Rotherwood  had  but  one  son,  whose  name  is  well 
known  among  his  countrymen.     But  if  thou  art  Cedric  of 


IVANHOE.  263 

Rotherwood,  why  this  religious  dress  ?  —  hast  thou,  too, 
despaired  of  saving  thy  country,  and  sought  refuge  from 
oppression  in  the  shade  of  the  convent  ?  " 

"  It  matters  not  who  I  am,"  said  Cedric  ;  "  proceed,  un- 
happy woman,  with  thy  tale  of  horror  and  guilt !  Guilt 
there  must  be  —  there  is  guilt  even  in  thy  living  to  tell  it." 

"There  is — there  is,"  answered  the  wretched  woman, 
"  deep,  black,  damning  guilt  —  guilt  that  lies  like  a  load 
at  my .  breast  —  guilt  that  all  the  penitential  fires  of 
hereafter  cannot  cleanse.  Yes,  in  these  halls,  stained 
with  the  noble  and  pure  blood  of  my  father  and  my  breth- 
ren —  in  these  very  halls,  to  have  lived  the  paramour  of 
their  murderer,  the  slave  at  once  and  the  partaker  of  his 
pleasures,  was  to  render  every  breath  which  I  drew  of 
vital  air,  a  crime  and  a  curse." 

"  Wretched  woman  !  "  exclaimed  Cedric.  "  And  while 
the  friends  of  thy  father  —  while  each  true  Saxon  heart, 
as  it  breathed  a  requiem  for  his  soul,  and  those  of  his 
valiant  sons,  forgot  not  in  their  prayers  the  murdered 
Ulrica  —  while  all  mourned  and  honoured  the  dead,  thou 
hast  lived  to  merit  our  hate  and  execration  —  lived  to 
unite  thyself  with  the  vile  tyrant  who  murdered  thy 
nearest  and  dearest,  who  shed  the  blood  of  infancy  rather 
than  a  male  of  the  noble  house  of  Torquil  AVolfganger 
should  survive  —  with  him  thou  hast  lived  to  unite  thy- 
self, and  in  the  bands  of  lawless  love !  " 

"  In  lawless  bands,  indeed,  but  not  in  those  of  love ! " 
answered  the  hag ;  "  love  will  sooner  visit  the  regions  of 
eternal  doom  than  those  unhallowed  vaults.  No ;  with 
that  at  least  I  cannot  reproach  myself ;  hatred  to  Front- 
de-Boeuf  and  his  race  governed  my  soul  most  deeply, 
even  in  the  hour  of  his  guilty  endearments." 

"  You  hated  him,  and  yet  you  lived,"  replied  Cedric  ; 
"  wretch !  was  there  no  poniard  —  no  knife  —  no  bodkin  ! 
Well  was  it  for  thee,  since  thou  didst  prize  such  an  exist- 
ence, that  the  secrets  of  a  Norman  castle  are  like  those  of 
the  grave.  For  had  I  but  dreamed  of  the  daughter  of 
Torquil  living  in  foul  communion  with  the  murderer 
of  her  father,  the  sword  of  a  true  Saxon  had  found  thee 
out  even  in  the  arms  of  thy  paramour ! 


v 


264  IVANHOE. 

"Wouldst  thou  indeed  have  done  this  justice  to  the 
name  of  Torquil  ? "  said  Ulrica,  for  we  may  now  lay 
aside  her  assumed  name  of  Urf ried ;  "  thou  art  then  the 
true  Saxon  report  speaks  thee !  for  even  within  these 
accursed  walls,  where,  as  thou  well  sayest,  guilt  shrouds 
itself  in  inscrutable  mystery  —  even  there  has  the  name 
of  Cedric  been  sounded  —  and  I,  wretched  and  degraded, 
have  rejoiced  to  think  that  there  yet  breathed  an  avenger 
of  our  unhappy  nation.  I  also  have  had  my  hours  of 
vengeance  —  I  have  fomented  the  quarrels  of  our  foes,  and 
heated  drunken  revelry  into  murderous  broil,  —  I  have 
seen  their  blood  flow  —  I  have  heard  their  dying  groans ! 
Look  on  me,  Cedric ;  are  there  not  still  left  on  this  foul 
and  faded  face  some  traces  of  the  features  of  Torquil  ?  " 

"  Ask  me  not  of  them,  Ulrica ; "  replied  Cedric,  in  a 
tone  of  grief  mixed  with  abhorrence  ;  "  these  traces  form 
such  a  resemblance  as  arises  from  the  grave  of  the  dead 
when  a  fiend  has  animated  the  lifeless  corpse." 

"Be  it  so,"  answered  Ulrica;  "yet  wore  these  fiendish 
features  the  mask  of  a  spirit  of  light  when  they  were  able 
to  set  at  variance  the  elder  Front-de-Boeuf  and  his  son 
Reginald  !  The  darkness  of  hell  should  hide  what  fol- 
lowed, but  revenge  must  lift  the  veil,  and  darkly  inti- 
mate what  it  would  raise  the  dead  to  speak  aloud.  Long 
had  the  smouldering  fire  of  discord  glowed  between  the 
tyrant  father  and  his  savage  son  —  long  had  I  nursed,  in 
secret,  the  unnatural  hatred ;  it  blazed  forth  in  an  hour 
of  drunken  wassail,  and  at  his  own  board  fell  my  op- 
pressor by  the  hand  of  his  own  son  —  such  are  the  secrets 
these  vaults  conceal !  Rend  asunder,  ye  accursed  arches," 
she  added,  looking  up  towards  the  roof,  "and  bury  in 
your  fall  all  who  are  conscious  of  the  hideous  mystery  ! " 

"  And  thou,  creature  of  guilt  and  misery,"  said  Cedric, 
"  what  became  thy  lot  on  the  death  of  thy  ravisher  ?  ' 

"  Guess  it,  but  ask  it  not.  Here  —  here  I  dwelt,  till 
age,  premature  age,  has  stamped  its  ghastly  features  on 
my  countenance  —  scorned  and  insulted  where  I  was 
once  obeyed,  and  compelled  to  bound  the  revenge  which 
had  once  such  ample  scope  to  the  efforts  of  petty  malice 
of  a  discontented  menial,  or  the  vain  or  unheeded  curses 


IVANIIOE.  265 

of  an  impotent  hag  —  condemned  to  hear  from  my  .onely 
turret  the  sounds  of  revelry  in  which  I  once  partook,  or 
the  shrieks  and  groans  of  new  victims  of  oppression." 

"  Ulrica,"  said  Cedric,  "  with  a  heart  which  still,  I  fear, 
regrets  the  lost  reward  of  thy  crimes,  as  much  as  the 
deeds  by  which  thou  didst  acquire  that  meed,  how  didst 
thou  dare  to  address  thee  to  one  who  wears  this  robe  ? 
Consider,  unhappy  woman,  what  could  the  sainted  Ed- 
ward himself  do  for  thee,  were  he  here  in  bodily 
presence  ?  The  royal  Confessor  was  endowed  by 
Heaven  with  power  to  cleanse  the  ulcers  of  the  body ; 
but  only  God  Himself  can  cure  the  leprosy  of  the  soul." 

"  Yet,  turn  not  from  me,  stern  prophet  of  wrath,"  she 
exclaimed,  "  but  tell  me,  if  thou  canst,  in  what  shall  ter- 
minate these  new  and  awful  feelings  that  burst  on  my 
solitude.  Why  do  deeds,  long  since  done,  rise  before  me 
in  new  and  irresistible  horrors  ?  What  fate  is  prepared 
beyond  the  grave  for  her  to  whom  God  has  assigned 
on  earth  a  lot  of  such  unspeakable  wretchedness  ? 
Better  had  I  turn  to  Woden,  Hertha,  and  Zernebock,  — 
to  Mista,  and  to  Skogula,  the  gods  of  our  yet  unbaptized 
ancestors,  than  endure  the  dreadful  anticipations  which 
have  of  late  haunted  my  waking  and  my  sleeping  hours ! " 

"  I  am  no  priest,"  said  Cedric,  turning  with  disgust  from 
this  miserable  picture  of  guilt,  wretchedness,  and  despair ; 
"  I  am  no  priest,  though  I  wear  a  priest's  garment." 

"Priest  or  layman,"  answered  Ulrica,  "thou  art  the 
first  I  have  seen  for  twenty  years  by  whom  God  was 
feared  or  man  regarded  ;  and  dost  thou  bid  me  despair  ?  3 

"I  bid  thee  repent,"  said  Cedric.  "Seek  to  prayer 
and  penance,  and  mayest  thou  find  acceptance!  But  I 
cannot,  I  will  not,  longer  abide  with  thee." 

"Stay  yet  a  moment!"  said  Ulrica;  "leave  me  not 
now,  son  of  my  father's  friend,  lest  the  demon  who  has 
governed  my  life  should  tempt  me  to  avenge  myself  of 
thy  hard-hearted  scorn.  Thinkest  thou,  if  Front-de- 
Boeuf  found  Cedric  the  Saxon  in  his  castle,  in  such  a 
disguise,  that  thy  life  would  be  a  long  one  ?  Already 
his  eye  has  been  upon  thee  like  a  falcon  on  his  prey." 

"And  be  it  so,"  said  Cedric;  "and  let  him  tear  me 


266  IVANHOE. 

with  beak  and  talons,  ere  my  tongue  say  one  word  which 
my  heart  doth  not  warrant.  I  will  die  a  Saxon  —  true  in 
word,  open  in  deed  —  I  bid  thee  avaunt !  —  touch  me  not, 
stay  me  not !  The  sight  of  Front-de-Bceuf  himself  is  less 
odious  to  me  than  thou,  degraded  and  degenerate  as  thou 
art." 

"Be  it  so,"  said  Ulrica,  no  longer  interrupting  him; 
"  go  thy  way,  and  forget,  in  the  insolence  of  thy  superi- 
ority, that  the  wretch  before  thee  is  the  daughter  of  thy 
father's  friend.  Go  thy  way  —  if  I  am  separated  from 
mankind  by  my  sufferings  —  separated  from  those  whose 
aid  I  might  most  justly  expect  —  not  less  will  I  be 
separated  from  them  in  my  revenge  !  No  man  shall  aid 
me,  but  the  ears  of  all  men  shall  tingle  to  hear  of  the 
deed  which  I  shall  dare  to  do  !  —  Farewell !  —  thy  scorn 
has  burst  the  last  tie  which  seemed  yet  to  unite  me  to 
my  kind  —  a  thought  that  my  woes  might  claim  the 
compassion  of  my  people." 

"Ulrica,"  said  Cedric,  softened  by  this  appeal,  "hast 
thou  borne  up  and  endured  to  live  through  so  much  guilt 
and  so  much  misery,  and  wilt  thou  now  yield  to  despair 
when  thine  eyes  are  opened  to  thy  crimes,  and  when  re- 
pentance were  thy  fitter  occupation  ?  " 

"Cedric,"  answered  Ulrica,  "thou  little  knowest  the 
human  heart.  To  act  as  I  have  acted,  to  think  as  I  have 
thought,  requires  the  maddening  love  of  pleasure,  mingled 
with  the  keen  appetite  of  revenge,  the  proud  conscious- 
ness of  power  —  draughts  too  intoxicating  for  the  human 
heart  to  bear,  and  yet  retain  the  power  to  prevent.  Their 
force  has  long  passed  away.  Age  has  no  pleasures, 
wrinkles  have  no  influence,  revenge  itself  dies  away  in 
impotent  curses.  Then  comes  remorse,  with  all  its  vipers, 
mixed  with  vain  regrets  for  the  past,  and  despair  for  the 
future !  —  Then,  when  all  other  strong  impulses  have 
ceased,  we  become  like  the  fiends  in  hell,  who  may  feel 
remorse,  but  never  repentance.  —  But  thy  words  have 
awakened  a  new  soul  within  me.  —  Well  hast  thou  said, 
all  is  possible  for  those  who  dare  to  die!  Thou  hast 
shown  me  the  means  of  revenge,  and  be  assured  I  will 
embrace  them.     It  has  hitherto  shared  this  wasted  bosom 


IVANHOE.  267 

with,  other  and  with  rival  passions  —  henceforward  it 
shall  possess  me  wholly,  and  thou  thyself  shalt  say  that, 
whatever  was  the  life  of  Ulrica,  her  death  well  became 
the  daughter  of  the  noble  Torquil.  There  is  a  force 
without  beleaguering  this  accursed  castle  —  hasten  to  lead 
them  to  the  attack,  and  when  thou  shalt  see  a  red  flag 
wave  from  the  turret  on  the  eastern  angle  of  the  donjon, 
press  the  Normans  hard  —  they  will  then  have  enough  to 
do  within,  and  you  may  win  the  wall  in  spite  both  of  bow 
and  mangonel.  Begone,  I  pray  thee;  follow  thine  own 
fate,  and  leave  me  to  mine." 

Cedric  would  have  inquired  farther  into  the  purpose 
which  she  thus  darkly  announced,  but  the  stern  voice  of 
Front-de-Bceuf  was 'heard  exclaiming,  "Where  tarries  this 
loitering  priest  ?  By  the  scallop-shell  of  Compostella,  I 
will  make  a  martyr  of  him,  if  he  loiters  here  to  hatch 
treason  among  my  domestics  !  " 

"  What  a  true  prophet,"  said  Ulrica,  "  is  an  evil  con- 
science! But  heed  him  not — out  and  to  thy  people  —  cry 
your  Saxon  onslaught ;  and  let  them  sing  their  war-song 
of  Rollo,  if  they  will ;  vengeance  shall  bear  a  burden  to  it." 

As  she  thus  spoke,  she  vanished  through  a  private  door, 
and  Reginald  Front-de-Bceuf  entered  the  apartment. 
Cedric,  with  some  difficulty,  compelled  himself  to  make 
obeisance  to  the  haughty  Baron,  who  returned  his  cour- 
tesy with  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head. 

"  Thy  penitents,  father,  have  made  a  long  shrift  —  it  is 
the  better  for  them,  since  it  is  the  last  they  shall  ever 
make.     Hast  thou  prepared  them  for  death  ?  " 

"  I  found  them,"  said  Cedric,  in  such  French  as  he 
could  command,  "  expecting  the  worst,  from  the  moment 
they  knew  into  whose  power  they  had  fallen." 

"How  now,  Sir  Friar,"  replied  Front-de-Bceuf,  "thy 
speech,  methinks,  smacks  of  a  Saxon  tongue  ?  " 

"  I  was  bred  in  the  convent  of  St.  Withold  of  Burton," 
answered  Cedric. 

"  Ay  ?  "  said  the  Baron ;  "  it  had  been  better  for  thee 
to  have  been  a  Norman,  and  better  for  my  purpose  too  ; 
but  need  has  no  choice  of  messengers.  That  St.  Withold's 
of  Burton  is  a  howlet's  nest  worth  the  harrying.     The  day 


268  IVANHOE. 

will  soon  come  that  the  frock  shall  protect  the  Saxon  as 
little  as  the  mail-coat." 

"  God's  will  be  clone,"  said  Cedric,  in  a  voice  tremulous 
with  passion,  which  Front-de-Bceuf  imputed  to  fear. 

"I  see,"  said  he,  "thou  dreamest  already  that  our  men- 
at-arms  are  in  thy  refectory  and  thy  ale-vaults.  But  do 
me  one  cast  of  thy  holy  office,  and,  come  what  list  of 
others,  thou  shalt  sleep  as  safe  in  thy  cell  as  a  snail 
within  his  shell  of  proof." 

"  Speak  your  commands,"  said  Cedric,  with  suppressed 
emotion. 

"Follow  me  through  this  passage,  then,  that  I  may 
dismiss  thee  by  the  postern." 

And  as  he  strode  on  his  way  before  the  supposed  friar, 
Front-de-Boeuf  thus  schooled  him  in  the  part  which  he 
desired  he  should  act. 

"  Thou  seest,  Sir  Friar,  yon  herd  of  Saxon  swine,  who 
have  dared  to  environ  this  castle  of  Torquilstone.  — Tell 
them  whatever  thou  hast  a  mind  of  the  weakness  of  this 
fortalice,  or  aught  else  that  can  detain  them  before  it 
for  twenty -four  hours.  Meantime  bear  thou  this  scroll. 
But  soft  —  canst  read,  Sir  Priest  ?  " 

"  Not  a  jot  I,"  answered  Cedric,  "  save  on  my  breviary ; 
and  then  I  know  the  characters,  because  I  have  the  holy 
service  by  heart,  praised  be  Our  Lady  and  St.  Withold ! " 

"  The  fitter  messenger  for  my  purpose.  Carry  thou 
this  scroll  to  the  castle,  of  Philip  de  Malvoisin;  say  it 
cometh  from  me,  and  is  written  by  the  Templar  Brian  de 
Bois-Guilbert,  and  that  I  pray  him  to  send  it  to  York 
with  all  the  speed  man  and  horse  can  make.  Meanwhile, 
tell  him  to  doubt  nothing,  he  shall  find  us  whole  and 
sound  behind  our  battlement.  —  Shame  on  it,  that  we 
should  be  compelled  to  hide  thus  by  a  pack  of  runagates, 
who  are  wont  to  fly  even  at  the  flash  of  our  pennons  and 
the  tramp  of  our  horses !  I  say  to  thee,  priest,  contrive 
some  cast  of  thine  art  to  keep  the  knaves  where  they 
are,  until  our  friends  bring  up  their  lances.  My  ven- 
geance is  awake,  and  she  is  a  falcon  that  slumbers  not 
till  she  has  been  gorged." 

"  \\y  my  patron  saint,"  said  Cedric,  with  deeper  energy 


IVANHOE.  269 

than  became  his  character,  "  and  by  every  saint  who  has 
lived  and  died  in  England,  your  commands  shall  be 
obeyed  !  Not  a  Saxon  shall  stir  from  before  these  walls, 
if  I  have  art  and  influence  to  detain  them  there." 

"  Ha  !  "  said  Front-de-Boeuf ,  "  thou  changest  thy  tone, 
Sir  Priest,  and  speakest  brief  and  bold,  as  if  thy  heart 
were  in  the  slaughter  of  the  Saxon  herd ;  and  yet  thou 
art  thyself  of  kindred  to  the  swine  ?  " 

Cedric  was  no  ready  practiser  of  the  art  of  dissimu- 
lation, and  would  at  this  moment  have  been  much  the 
better  of  a  hint  from  Wamba's  more  fertile  brain.  But 
necessity,  according  to  the  ancient  proverb,  sharpens  in- 
vention, and  he  muttered  something  under  his  cowl  con- 
cerning the  men  in  question  being  excommunicated  out- 
laws both  to  church  and  to  kingdom. 

"  Despardieux"  answered  Front-de-Boeuf,  "thou  hast 
spoken  the  very  truth  —  I  forgot  that  the  knaves  can 
strip  a  fat  abbot  as  well  as  if  they  had  been  born  south 
of  yonder  salt  channel.  Was  it  not  he  of  St.  Ives  whom 
they  tied  to  an  oak  tree,  and  compelled  to  sing  a  mass 
while  they  were  rifling  his  mails  and  his  wallets  ?  —  No, 
by  Our  Lady,  that  jest  was  played  by  Gualtier  of  Middle- 
ton,  one  of  our  own  companions-at-arms.  But  they  were 
Saxons  who  robbed  the  chapel  at  St.  Bees  of  cup,  candle- 
stick, and  chalice,  were  they  not  ?  " 

"  They  were  godless  men,"  answered  Cedric. 

"Ay,  and  they  drank  out  all  the  good  wine  and  ale 
that  lay  in  store  for  many  a  secret  carousal,  when  ye 
pretend  ye  are  but  busied  with  vigils  and  primes !  — 
Priest,  thou  art  bound  to  revenge  such  sacrilege." 

"  I  am  indeed  bound  to  vengeance,"  murmured  Cedric ; 
"  St.  "Withold  knows  my  heart." 

Front-de-Boeuf,  in  the  meanwhile,  led  the  way  to  a 
postern,  where,  passing  the  moat  on  a  single  plank,  they 
reached  a  small  barbican,  or  exterior  defence,  which  com- 
municated with  the  open  field  by  a  well-fortified  sally-port. 

"  Begone,  then ;  and  if  thou  wilt  do  mine  errand,  and 
if  thou  return  hither  when  it  is  done,  thou  shalt  see 
Saxon  flesh  cheap  as  ever  was  hog's  in  the  shambles  of 
Sheffield.     And,  hark   thee,  thou  seemest  to  be  a  jolly 


V 


270  IVANHOE. 

confessor  —  come  hither  after  the  onslaught,  and  thou 
shalt  have  as  much  Malvoisie  as  would  drench  thy  whole 
convent." 

"  Assuredly  we  shall   meet  again,"  answered   Cedric. 

"  Something  in  hand  the  whilst,"  continued  the  Nor- 
man; and,  as  they  parted  at  the  postern  door,  he  thrust 
into  Cedric's  reluctant  hand  a  gold  byzant,  adding, 
"  Remember,  I  will  flay  off  both  cowl  and  skin  if  thou 
failest  in  thy  purpose." 

"  And  full  leave  will  I  give  thee  to  do  both,"  answered 
Cedric,  leaving  the  postern,  and  striding  forth  over  the 
free  field  with  a  joyful  step,  "if,  when  we  meet  next, 
I  deserve  not  better  at  thine  hand."  —  Turning  then 
back  towards  the  castle,  he  threw  the  piece  of  gold 
towards  the  donor,  exclaiming  at  the  same  time,  "  False 
Norman,  thy  money  perish  with  thee  !  " 

Front-de-Boeuf  heard  the  words  imperfectly,  but  the 
action  was  suspicious.  "Archers,"  he  called  to  the 
warders  on  the  outward  battlements;  "send  me  an 
arrow  through  yon  monk 's  frock  !  —  Yet  stay,"  he  said, 
as  his  retainers  were  bending  their  bows,  "  it  avails  not 
—  we  must  thus  far  trust  him  since  we  have  no  better 
shift.  I  think  he  dares  not  betray  me ;  at  the  worst  I 
can  but  treat  with  these  Saxon  dogs  whom  I  have  safe 
in  kennel.  Ho !  Giles  jailor,  let  them  bring  Cedric  of 
Eotherwood  before  me,  and  the  other  churl,  his  com- 
panion—  him  I  mean  pf  Coningsburgh  —  Athelstane 
there,  or  what  call  they  him?  Their  very  names  are  an 
encumbrance  to  a  Norman  knight's  mouth,  and  have,  as 
it  were,  a  flavour  of  bacon.  Give  me  a  stoup  of  wine,  as 
jolly  Prince  John  said,  that  I  may  wash  away  the  relish; 
place  it  in  the  armoury,  and  thither  lead  the  prisoners." 

His  commands  were  obeyed;  and  upon  entering  that 
Gothic  apartment,  hung  with  many  spoils  won  by  his 
own  valour  and  that  of  his  father,  he  found  a  flagon  of 
wine  on  the  massive  oaken  table,  and  the  two  Saxon 
captives  under  the  guard  of  four  of  his  dependants. 
Front-de-Boeuf  took  a  long  draught  of  wine,  and  then 
addressed  his  prisoners;  —  for  the  manner  in  which 
Wamba  drew  the  cap  over  his  face,  the  change  of  dress, 


IVANHOE.  271 

the  gloomy  and  broken  light,  and  the  Baron 's  imperfect 
acquaintance  with  the  features  of  Cedric,  who  avoided 
his  Norman  neighbours,  and  seldom  stirred  beyond  his 
own  domains,  prevented  him  from  discovering  that  the 
most  important  of  his  captives  had  made  his  escape. 

"  Gallants  of  England,"  said  Front-de-Boeuf,  "  how 
relish  ye  your  entertainment  at  Torquilstone  ?  Are  ye 
yet  aware  what  your  surquedy  and  outrecuidance  merit,  for 
scoffing  at  the  entertainment  of  a  prince  of  the  house  of 
Anjou?  —  Have  ye  forgotten  how  ye  requited  the 
unmerited  hospitality  of  the  royal  John  ?  By  God  and 
St.  Denis,  an  ye  pay  not  the  richer  ransom,  I  will  hang 
ye  up  by  the  feet  from  the  iron  bars  of  these  windows, 
till  the  kites  and  hooded  crows  have  made  skeletons  of 
you  !  Speak  out,  ye  Saxon  dogs  —  what  bid  ye  for  your 
worthless  lives  ?     How  say  you,  you  of  Rotherwood  ?  " 

"Not  a  doit  I,"  answered  poor  Wamba;  "and  for 
hanging  up  by  the  feet,  my  brain  has  been  topsy-turvy, 
they  say,  ever  since  the  biggin  was  bound  first  round 
my  head  ;  so  turning  me  upside  down  may  peradventure 
restore  it  again." 

"  St.  Genevieve  !  "  said  Front-de-Boeuf,  "  what  have  we 
got  here  ?  " 

And  with  the  back  of  his  hand  he  struck  Cedric  's  cap 
from  the  head  of  the  Jester,  and  throwing  open  his 
collar,  discovered  the  fatal  badge  of  servitude,  the 
silver  collar  round  his  neck. 

"  Giles  —  Clement  —  dogs  and  varlets  !  "  exclaimed 
the  furious  Norman,  "what  have  you  brought  me 
here?" 

"I  think  I  can  tell  you,"  said  De  Bracy,  who  just 
entered  the  apartment.  "This  is  Cedric 's  clown,  who 
fought  so  manful  a  skirmish  with  Isaac  of  York  about  a 
question  of  precedence." 

"  I  shall  settle  it  for  them  both,"  replied  Front-de- 
Boeuf;  "they  shall  hang  on  the  same  gallows,  unless 
his  master  and  this  boar  of  Coningsburgh  will  pay  well 
for  their  lives.  Their  wealth  is  the  least  they  can 
surrender;  they  must  also  carry  off  with  them  the 
swarms   that   are  besetting  the  castle,  subscribe  a  sur- 


272  IVANHOE. 

render  of  their  pretended  immunities,  and  live  under  us 
as  serfs  and  vassals;  too  happy  if,  in  the  new  world  that 
is  about  to  begin,  we  leave  them  the  breath  of  their  nos- 
trils.—  Go,"  said  he  to  two  of  his  attendants,  "fetch  me 
the  right  Cedric  hither,  and  I  pardon  your  error  for 
once ;  the  rather  that  you  but  mistook  a  fool  for  a  Saxon 
franklin." 

"Ay,  but,"  said  Wamba,  "youv  chivalrous  excellency 
will  find  there  are  more  fools  than  franklins  among 
us." 

"What  means  the  knave?"  said  Front-de-Boeuf,  look- 
ing towards  his  followers,  who,  lingering  and  loth,  fal- 
tered forth  their  belief  that,  if  this  were  not  Cedric  who 
was  there  in  presence,  they  knew  not  what  was  become 
of  him. 

"  Saints  of  Heaven !  "  exclaimed  De  Bracy,  "  he  must 
have  escaped  in  the  monk's  garments  ! " 

"  Fiends  of  hell !  "  echoed  Front-de-Boeuf,  "  it  was  then 
the  boar  of  Rotherwood  whom  I  ushered  to  the  postern, 
and  dismissed  with  my  own  hands  !  —  And  thou,"  he  said 
to  Wamba,  "  whose  folly  could  overreach  the  wisdom  of 
idiots  yet  more  gross  than  thyself  —  I  will  give  thee  holy 
orders  —  I  will  shave  thy  crown  for  thee  !  —  Here,  let 
them  tear  the  scalp  from  his  head,  and  then  pitch  him 
headlong  from  the  battlements  —  Thy  trade  is  to  jest, 
canst  thou  jest  now  ?  " 

"  You  deal  with  me  better  than  your  word,  noble 
knight,"  whimpered  forth  poor  Wamba,  whose  habits 
of  buffoonery  were  not  to  be  overcome  even  by  the  im- 
mediate prospect  of  death ;  "  if  you  give  me  the  red  cap 
you  propose,  out  of  a  simple  monk  you  will  make  a 
cardinal." 

"  The  poor  wretch,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  is  resolved  to  die 
in  his  vocation.  —  Front-de-Boeuf,  you  shall  not  slay  him. 
Give  him  to  me  to  make  sport  for  my  Free  Companions. 
—  How  sayst  thou,  knave?  Wilt  thou  take  heart  of 
grace,  and  go  to  the  wars  with  me  ?  " 

"  Ay,  with  my  master's  leave,"  said  Wamba ;  "  for, 
look  you,  1  must  not  slip  collar  (and  he  touched  that 
which  he  wore)  without  his  permission." 


IV AN  HOE.  273 

"  Oh,  a  Norman  saw  will  soon  cut  a  Saxon  collar,"  said 
De  Bracy. 

"  Ay,  noble  sir,"  said  Wamba,  "  and  thence  goes  the 
proverb : 

Norman  saw  on  English  oak, 

On  English  neck  a  Norman  yoke 

Norman  spoon  in  English  dish, 

And  England  ruled  as  Normans  wish  ; 

Blythe  world  to  England  never  will  be  more, 

Till  England's  rid  of  all  the  four." 

"  Thou  dost  well,  De  Bracy,"  said  Front-de-Bceuf,  "  to 
stand  there  listening  to  a  fool's  jargon,  when  destruction 
is  gaping  for  us !  Seest  thou  not  we  are  overreached, 
and  that  our  proposed  mode  of  communicating  with  our 
friends  without  has  been  disconcerted  by  this  same  mot- 
ley gentleman  thou  art  so  fond  to  brother  ?  What  views 
have  we  to  expect  but  instant  storm  ?  " 

"To  the  battlements  then,"  said  De  Bracy;  "when 
didst  thou  ever  see  me  the  graver  for  the  thoughts  of 
battle  ?  Call  the  Templar  yonder,  and  let  him  fight  but 
half  so  well  for  his  life  as  he  has  done  for  his  Order  — 
Make  thou  to  the  walls  thyself  with  thy  huge  body  —  Let 
me  do  my  poor  endeavour  in  my  own  way,  and  I  tell  thee 
the  Saxon  outlaws  may  as  well  attempt  to  scale  the  clouds 
as  the  castle  of  Torquilstone ;  or,  if  you  will  treat  with 
the  banditti,  why  not  employ  the  mediation  of  this  worthy 
franklin,  who  seems  in  such  deep  contemplation  of  the 
wine-flagon  ?  —  Here,  Saxon,"  he  continued,  addressing 
Athelstane,  and  handing  the  cup  to  him,  "  rinse  thy  throat 
with  that  noble  liquor,  and  rouse  up  thy  soul  to  say  what 
thou  wilt  do  for  thy  liberty." 

"What  a  man  of  mould  may,"  answered  Athelstane, 
"providing  it  be  what  a  man  of  manhood  ought. — Dis- 
miss me  free,  with  my  companions,  and  I  will  pay  a 
ransom  of  a  thousand  marks." 

"  And  wilt  moreover  assure  us  the  retreat  of  that  scum 
of  mankind  who  are  swarming  around  the  castle,  con- 
trary to  God's  peace  and  the  king's  ?  "  said  Front-de- 
Bceuf. 


274  IVANHOE. 

"In  so  far  as  I  can,"  answered  Athelstane,  "I  will 
withdraw  them  ;  and  I  fear  not  but  that  my  father  Cedric 
will  do  his  best  to  assist  me." 

"  We  are  agreed  then,"  said  Front-de-Bceuf ;  "thou  and 
they  are  to  be  set  at  freedom,  and  peace  is  to  be  on  both 
sides,  for  payment  of  a  thousand  marks.  It  is  a  trifling 
ransom,  Saxon,  and  thou  wilt  owe  gratitude  to  the  mod- 
eration which  accepts  of  it  in  exchange  of  your  persons. 
But  mark,  this  extends  not  to  the  Jew  Isaac." 

"  Nor  to  the  Jew  Isaac's  daughter,"  said  the  Templar, 
who  had  now  joined  them. 

"  Neither,"  said  Front-de-Bceuf,  "belong  to  this  Saxon's 
company." 

"  I  were  unworthy  to  be  called  Christian,  if  they  did," 
replied  Athelstane ;  "  deal  with  the  unbelievers  as  ye 
list." 

"  Neither  does  the  ransom  include  the  Lady  Rowena," 
said  De  Bracy.  "  It  shall  never  be  said  I  was  scared  out 
of  a  fair  prize  without  striking  a  blow  for  it." 

"  Neither,"  said  Front-de-Boeuf,  "  does  our  treaty  refer 
to  this  wretched  Jester,  whom  I  retain,  that  I  may  make 
him  an  example  to  every  knave  who  turns  jest  into 
earnest." 

"  The  Lady  Rowena,"  answered  Athelstane,  with  the 
most  steady  countenance,  "  is  my  affianced  bride.  I  will 
be  drawn  by  wild  horses  before  I  consent  to  part  with 
her.  The  slave  Wamba  iias  this  day  saved  the  life  of 
my  father  Cedric.  I  will  lose  mine,  ere  a  hair  of  his  head 
be  injured." 

"  Thy  affianced  bride !  —  The  Lady  Rowena  the  affi- 
anced bride  of  a  vassal  like  thee ! "  said  De  Bracy. 
"  Saxon,  thou  dreamest  that  the  days  of  thy  seven  king- 
doms are  returned  again.  I  tell  thee,  the  princes  of  the 
house  of  Anjou  confer  not  their  wards  on  men  of  such 
lineage  as  thine." 

"  My  lineage,  proud  Norman,"  replied  Athelstane,  "is 
drawn  from  a  source  more  pure  and  ancient  than  that  of 
a  beggarly  Frenchman,  whose  living  is  won  by  selling 
the  blood  of  the  thieves  whom  he  assembles  under  his 
paltry  standard.     Kings  were  my  ancestors,  strong  in 


IVANHOE.  275 

war,  and  wise  in  council,  who  every  day  feasted  in  their 
hall  more  hundreds  than  thou  canst  number  individual 
followers ;  whose  names  have  been  sung  by  minstrels, 
and  their  laws  recorded  by  Witenagemotes ;  whose  bones 
were  interred  amid  the  prayers  of  saints,  and  over  whose 
tombs  minsters  have  been  builded." 

"Thou  hast  it,  De  Bracy,"  said  Front-de-Bceuf,  well 
pleased  with  the  rebuff  which  his  companion  had  re- 
ceived ;  "  the  Saxon  hath  hit  thee  fairly." 

"  As  fairly  as  a  captive  can  strike,"  said  De  Bracy, 
with  apparent  carelessness ;  "  for  he  whose  hands  are 
tied  should  have  his  tongue  at  freedom.  —  But  thy 
glibness  of  reply,  comrade,"  rejoined  he,  speaking  to 
Athelstane,  "  will  not  win  the  freedom  of  the  Lady 
Rowena." 

To  this  Athelstane,  who  had  already  made  a  longer 
speech  than  was  his  custom  to  do  on  any  topic,  however 
interesting,  returned  no  answer.  The  conversation  was 
interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  a  menial,  who  announced 
that  a  monk  demanded  admittance  at  the  postern  gate. 

"  In  the  name  of  St.  Bennet,  the  prince  of  these  bull- 
beggars,"  said  Front-de-Bceuf,  "have  we  a  real  monk  this 
time,  or  another  impostor  ?  Search  him,  slaves  —  for  an 
ye  suffer  a  second  impostor  to  be  palmed  upon  you,  I  will 
have  your  eyes  torn  out,  and  hot  coals  put  into  the 
sockets." 

"  Let  me  endure  the  extremity  of  your  anger,  my 
lord,"  said  Giles,  "  if  this  be  not  a  real  shaveling.  Your 
squire  Jocelyn  knows  him  well,  and  will  vouch  him  to  be 
Brother  Ambrose,  a  monk  in  attendance  upon  the  Prior 
of  Jorvaulx." 

"Admit  him,"  said  Front-de-Bceuf;  "most  likely  he 
brings  us  news  from  his  jovial  master.  Surely  the  devil 
keeps  holiday,  and  the  priests  are  relieved  from  duty, 
that  they  are  strolling  thus  wildly  through  the  country. 
Remove  these  prisoners ;  and,  Saxon,  think  on  what  thou 
hast  heard." 

"  I  claim,"  said  Athelstane,  "  an  honourable  imprison- 
ment, with  due  care  of  my  board  and  of  my  couch,  as 
becomes  my  rank;  and  as  is  due  to  one  who  is  in  treaty 


276  IVANHOE. 

for  ransom.  Moreover,  I  hold  him  that  deems  himself  the 
best  of  you  bound  to  answer  to  me  with  his  body  for  this 
aggression  on  my  freedom.  This  defiance  hath  already 
been  sent  to  thee  by  thy  sewer;  thou  underliest  it,  and 
art  bound  to  answer  me.     There  lies  my  glove." 

"I  answer  not  the  challenge  of  my  prisoner,"  said 
Front-de-Bceuf,  "  nor  shalt  thou,  Maurice  de  Bracy.  — 
Giles,"  he  continued,  "  hang  the  franklin's  glove  upon 
the  tine  of  yonder  branched  antlers  ;  there  shall  it  remain 
until  he  is  a  free  man.  Should  he  then  presume  to  de- 
mand it,  or  to  affirm  he  was  unlawfully  made  my  pris- 
oner, by  the  belt  of  St.  Christopher,  he  will  speak  to  one 
who  hath  never  refused  to  meet  a  foe  on  foot  or  on  horse- 
back, alone  or  with  his  vassals  at  his  back  !  " 

The  Saxon  prisoners  were  accordingly  removed,  just  as 
they  introduced  the  monk  Ambrose,  who  appeared  to  be 
in  great  perturbation. 

"This  is  the  real  Deus  vobiscum,"  said  Wamba,  as  he 
passed  the  reverend  brother ;  "  the  others  were  but 
counterfeits." 

"  Holy  Mother  !  "  said  the  monk,  as  he  addressed  the 
assembled  knights,  "  I  am  at  last  safe  and  in  Christian 
keeping ! " 

"  Safe  thou  art,"  replied  De  Bracy,  "  and  for  Chris- 
tianity, here  is  the  stout  Baron  Reginald  Froiit-de-Boeuf, 
whose  utter  abomination  is  a  Jew ;  and  the  good  Knight 
Templar,  Brian  de  Bois-Gmilbert,  whose  trade  is  to  slay 
Saracens  —  If  these  are  not  good  marks  of  Christianity,  I 
know  no  other  which  they  bear  about  them." 

"  Ye  are  friends  and  allies  of  our  reverend  father  in 
God,  Aymer,  Prior  of  Jorvaulx,"  said  the  monk,  with- 
out noticing  the  tone  of  De  Bracy's  reply ;  "  ye  owe  him 
aid  both  by  knightly  faith  and  holy  charity;  for  what 
saith  the  blessed  St.  Augustin,  in  his  treatise  De  Civitate 
Dei " 

"  What  saith  the  devil !  "  interrupted  Front-de-Boeuf ; 
"or  rather  what  dost  thou  say,  Sir  Priest?  We  have 
little  time  to  hear  texts  from  the  holy  fathers." 

"  Sancta  Maria V  ejaculated  Father  Ambrose,  "how 
prompt  to  ire  are  these  unhallowed  laymen  !     But  be  it 


IVANHOE.  277 

known  to  you,  brave  knights,  that  certain  murderous 
caitiffs,  casting  behind  them  fear  of  God  and  reverence 
of  His  church,  and  not  regarding  the  bull  of  the  holy  see, 
Si  quis,  suaclente  Diabolo " 

"  Brother  priest,"  said  the  Templar,  "  all  this  we  know 
or  guess  at  —  tell  us  plainly,  is  thy  master,  the  Prior, 
made  prisoner,  and  to  whom  ?  " 

"Surely,"  said  Ambrose,  "he  is  in  the  hands  of  the 
men  of  Belial,  infesters  of  these  woods,  and  contemners 
of  the  holy  text,  '  Touch  not  mine  anointed,  and  do  my 
prophets  nought  of  evil.'  " 

"  Here  is  a  new  argument  for  our  swords,  sirs,"  said 
Front-de-Bceuf,  turning  to  his  companions ;  "  and  so, 
instead  of  reaching  us  any  assistance,  the  Prior  of 
Jorvaulx  requests  aid  at  our  hands  ?  A  man  is  well 
helped  of  these  lazy  churchmen  when  he  hath  most  to 
do  !  —  But  speak  out,  priest,  and  say  at  once  what  doth 
thy  master  expect  from  us  ?  " 

"  So  please  you,"  said  Ambrose,  "  violent  hands  having 
been  imposed  on  my  reverend  superior,  contrary  to  the 
holy  ordinance  which  I  did  already  quote,  and  the  men 
of  Belial  having  rifled  his  mails  and  budgets,  and  stripped 
him  of  two  hundred  marks  of  pure  refined  gold,  they  do 
yet  demand  of  him  a  large  sum  beside,  ere  they  will  suffer 
him  to  depart  from  their  uncircumcised  hands.  Where- 
fore the  reverend  father  in  God  prays  you,  as  his  dear 
friends,  to  rescue  him  either  by  paying  down  the  ransom 
at  which  they  hold  him,  or  by  force  of  arms,  at  your  best 
discretion." 

"  The  foul  fiend  quell  the  Prior  !  "  said  Front-de-Boeuf  ; 
"his  morning's  draught  has  been  a  deep  one.  When  did 
thy  master  hear  of  a  Norman  baron  unbuckling  his  purse 
to  relieve  a  churchman,  whose  bags  are  ten  times  as 
weighty  as  ours  ?  —  And  how  can  we  do  aught  by  valour 
to  free  him,  that  are  cooped  up  here  by  ten  times  our 
number,  and  expect  an  assault  every  moment  ?  " 

"  And  that  was  what  I  was  about  to  tell  you,"  said  the 
monk,  "  had  your  hastiness  allowed  me  time.  But,  God 
help  me,  I  am  old,  and  these  foul  onslaughts  distract  an 
a^ed  man's  brain.     Nevertheless,  it  is  of  verity  that  they 


278  IVANHOE. 

assemble  a  camp,  and  raise  a  bank  against  the  walls  oi 
this  castle." 

"  To  the  battlements ! "  cried  De  Bracy,  "  and  let  us 
mark  what  these  knaves  do  without "  j  and  so  saying,  he 
opened  a  latticed  window  which  led  to  a  sort  of  bartizan 
or  projecting  balcony,  and  immediately  called  from 
thence  to  those  in  the  apartment  —  "  St.  Denis,  but  the 
old  monk  hath  brought  true  tidings !  —  They  bring  for- 
ward mantelets  and  pavisses,  and  the  archers  muster  on 
the  skirts  of  the  wood  like  a  dark  cloud  before  a  hail- 
storm." 

Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf  also  looked  out  upon  the  field, 
and  immediately  snatched  his  bugle ;  and  after  winding 
a  long  and  loud  blast,  commanded  his  men  to  their  posts 
on  the  walls. 

"  De  Bracy,  look  to  the  eastern  side  where  the  walls 
are  lowest — Noble  Bois-Guilbert,  thy  trade  hath  well 
taught  thee  how  to  attack  and  defend,  look  thou  to  the 
western  side  —  I  myself  will  take  post  at  the  barbican. 
Yet,  do  not  confine  your  exertions  to  any  one  spot,  noble 
friends  !  —  We  must  this  day  be  everywhere,  and  multiply 
ourselves,  were  it  possible,  so  as  to  carry  by  our  presence 
succour  and  relief  wherever  the  attack  is  hottest.  Our 
numbers  are  few,  but  activity  and  courage  may  sup- 
ply  that  defect,  since  we  have  only  to  do  with  rascal 
clowns." 

"But,  noble  knights,",  exclaimed  Father  Ambrose, 
amidst  the  bustle  and  confusion  occasioned  by  the  prepa- 
rations for  defence,  "  will  none  of  ye  hear  the  message 
of  the  reverend  father  in  God,  Aymer,  Prior  of  Jorvaulx  ? 

—  I  beseech  thee  to  hear  me,  noble  Sir  Reginald ! ': 

"  Go  patter  thy  petitions  to  Heaven,"  said  the  fierce 
Norman,  "  for  we  on  earth  have  no  time  to  listen  to  them. 

—  Ho  !  there,  Anselm  !  see  that  seething  pitch  and  oil  are 
ready  to  pour  on  the  heads  of  these  audacious  traitors  — 
Look  that  the  cross-bowmen  lack  not  bolts  —  Fling 
abroad  my  banner  with  the  old  bull's  head  —  the  knaves 
shall  soon  find  with  whom  they  have  to  do  this  day ! " 

"  But,  noble  sir,"  continued  the  monk,  persevering  in 
his  endeavours  to  draw  attention,  "consider  my  vow  of 


IVANHOE.  279 

obedience,  and  let  me  discharge  myself  of  my  superior's 
errand." 

"  Away  with  this  prating  dotard,"  said  Front-de-Bceuf ; 
"  lock  him  up  in  the  chapel  to  tell  his  beads  till  the  broil 
be  over.  It  will  be  a  new  thing  to  the  saints  in  Torquil- 
stone  to  hear  aves  and  paters ;  they  have  not  been  so  hon- 
oured, I  trow,  since  they  were  cut  out  of  stone." 

"Blaspheme  not  the  holy  saints,  Sir  Reginald,"  said 
De  Bracy,  "  we  shall  have  need  of  their  aid  to-day  before 
yon  rascal  rout  disband." 

"I  expect  little  aid  from  their  hand,"  said  Front-de- 
Boeuf,  "  unless  we  were  to  hurl  them  from  the  battlements 
on  the  heads  of  the  villains.  There  is  a  huge  lumbering 
St.  Christopher  yonder,  sufficient  to  bear  a  whole  com- 
pany to  the  earth." 

The  Templar  had  in  the  meantime  been  looking  out  on 
the  proceedings  of  the  besiegers,  with  rather  more  atten- 
tion than  the  brutal  Front-de-Boeuf  or  his  giddy  compan- 
ion. 

"  By  the  faith  of  mine  Order,"  he  said,  "  these  men  ap- 
proach with  more  touch  of  discipline  than  could  have 
been  judged,  however  they  come  by  it.  See  ye  how  dex- 
terously they  avail  themselves  of  every  cover  which  a 
tree  or  bush  affords,  and  shun  exposing  themselves  to  the 
shot  of  our  cross-bows  ?  I  spy  neither  banner  nor  pen- 
non among  them,  and  yet  will  I  gage  my  golden  chain 
that  they  are  led  on  by  'some  noble  knight  or  gentleman, 
skilful  in  the  practice  of  wars." 

"  I  espy  him,"  said  De  Bracy ;  "  I  see  the  waving  of  a 
knight's  crest,  and  the  gleam  of  his  armour.  See  yon  tall 
man  in  the  black  mail,  who  is  busied  marshalling  the 
farther  troop  of  the  rascaille  yeomen  —  by  St.  Denis, 
I  hold  him  to  be  the  same  whom  we  called  Le  Noir 
Faineant,  who  overthrew  thee,  Front-de-Bceuf,  in  the  lists 
at  Ashby." 

"So  much  the  better,"  said  Front-de-Bceuf,  "that  he 
comes  here  to  give  me  my  revenge.  Some  hilding  fellow 
he  must  be,  who  dared  not  stay  to  assert  his  claim  to  the 
tourney  prize  which  chance  had  assigned  him.  I  should 
in  vain  have  sought  for  him  where  knights  and  nobles 


280  IVANHOE. 

seek  their  foes,  and  right  glad  am  I  he  hath  here  shown 
himself  among  yon  villain  yeomanry." 

The  demonstrations  of  the  enemy's  immediate  approach 
cut  off  all  farther  discourse.  Each  knight  repaired  to 
his  post,  and  at  the  head  of  the  few  followers  whom  they 
were  able  to  muster,  and  who  were  in  numbers  inadequate 
to  defend  the  whole  extent  of  the  walls,  they  awaited 
with  calm  determination  the  threatened  assault. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

The  wandering  race,  sever' d  from  other  men, 
Boast  yet  their  intercourse  with  human  arts  ; 
The  seas,  the  woods,  the  deserts,  which  they  haunt, 
Find  them  acquainted  with  their  secret  treasures  ; 
And  unregarded  herbs,  and  flowers,  and  blossoms, 
Display  undreamt-of  powers  when  gather'd  by  them. 

The  Jew. 

Our  history  must  needs  retrograde  for  the  space  of  a 
few  pages,  to  inform  the  reader  of  certain  passages  ma- 
terial to  his  understanding  the  rest  of  this  important 
narrative.  His  own  intelligence  may  indeed  have  easily 
anticipated  that,  when  Ivanhoe  sunk  down,  and  seemed 
abandoned  by  all  the  world,  it  was  the  importunity  of 
Rebecca  which  prevailed,  on  her  father  to  have  the  gal- 
lant young  warrior  transported  from  the  lists  to  the 
house  which,  for  the  time,  the  Jews  inhabited  in  the 
suburbs  of  Ashby. 

It  would  not  have  been  difficult  to  have  persuaded 
Isaac  to  this  step  in  any  other  circumstances,  for  his 
disposition  was  kind  and  grateful.  But  he  had  also  the 
prejudices  and  scrupulous  timidity  of  his  persecuted 
people,  and  those  were  to  be  conquered. 

"  Holy  Abraham  ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  he  is  a  good  youth, 
and  my  heart  bleeds  to  see  the  gore  trickle  down  his 
rich  embroidered  hacqueton,  and  his  corslet  of  goodly 
price  —  but  to  carry  him  to  our  house !  —  damsel,  hast 
thou  well  considered  ?     He  is  a  Christian,  and   by  our 


IVANHOE.  281 

law  we  may  not  deal  with  the  stranger  and  Gentile,  save 
for  the  advantage  of  our  commerce." 

"  Speak  not  so,  my  dear  father,"  replied  Rebecca ; 
"  we  may  not  indeed  mix  with  them  in  banquet  and  in 
jollity ;  but  in  wounds  and  in  misery,  the  Gentile  be- 
cometh  the  Jew's  brother." 

"  I  would  I  knew  what  the  Rabbi  Jacob  ben  Tudela 
would  opine  on  it,"  replied  Isaac;  "nevertheless,  the 
good  youth  must  not  bleed  to  death.  Let  Seth  and 
Reuben  bear  him  to  Ashby." 

"  Nay,  let  them  place  him  in  my  litter,"  said  Rebecca ; 
''  I  will  mount  one  of  the  palfreys." 

"  That  were  to  expose  thee  to  the  gaze  of  those  dogs 
of  Ishmael  and  of  Edom,"  whispered  Isaac,  with  a  sus- 
picious glance  towards  the  crowd  of  knights  and  squires. 
But  Rebecca  was  already  busied  in  carrying  her  chari- 
table purpose  into  effect,  and  listed  not  w^hat  he  said, 
until  Isaac,  seizing  the  sleeve  of  her  mantle,  again  ex- 
claimed, in  a  hurried  voice  —  "  Beard  of  Aaron  !  what  if 
the  youth  perish !  —  if  he  die  in  our  custody,  shall  we 
not  be  held  guilty  of  his  blood,  and  be  torn  to  pieces  by 
the  multitude  ?  " 

"He  will  not  die,  my  father,"  said  Rebecca,  gently 
extricating  herself  from  the  grasp  of  Isaac  —  "he  will 
not  die  unless  we  abandon  him ;  and  if  so,  we  are  indeed 
answerable  for  his  blood  to  God  and  to  man." 

"  Nay,"  said  Isaac,  releasing  his  hold,  "  it  grieveth  me 
as  much  to  see  the  drops  of  his  blood  as  if  they  were  so 
many  golden  byzants  from  mine  own  purse ;  and  I  well 
know  that  the  lessons  of  Miriam,  daughter  of  the  Rabbi 
Manasses  of  Byzantium,  whose  soul  is  in  Paradise,  have 
made  thee  skilful  in  the  art  of  healing,  and  that  thou 
knowest  the  craft  of  herbs  and  the  force  of  elixirs. 
Therefore,  do  as  thy  mind  giveth  thee  —  thou  art  a  good 
damsel,  a  blessing,  and  a  crown,  and  a  song  of  rejoicing, 
unto  me  and  unto  my  house,  and  unto  the  people  of  my 
fathers." 

The  apprehensions  of  Isaac,  however,  were  not  ill 
founded ;  and  the  generous  and  grateful  benevolence  of 
his  daughter  exposed   her,  on  her   return  to  Ashby,  to 


282  IVANHOE. 

the  unhallowed  gaze  of  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert.  The 
Templar  twice  passed  and  repassed  them  on  the  road, 
fixing  his  bold  and  ardent  look  on  the  beautiful  Jewess ; 
and  we  have  already  seen  the  consequences  of  the  admi- 
ration which  her  charms  excited,  when  accident  threw 
her  into  the  power  of  that  unprincipled  voluptuary. 

Eebecca  lost  no  time  in  causing  the  patient  to  be 
transported  to  their  temporary  dwelling,  and  proceeded 
with  her  own  hands  to  examine  and  to  bind  up  his 
wounds.  The  youngest  reader  of  romances  and  romantic 
ballads  must  recollect  how  often  the  females  during 
the  dark  ages,  as  they  are  called,  were  initiated  into  the 
mysteries  of  surgery,  and  how  frequently  the  gallant  knight 
submitted  the  wounds  of  his  person  to  her  cure  whose  eyes 
had  yet  more  deeply  penetrated  his  heart. 

But  the  Jews,  both  male  and  female,  possessed  and 
practised  the  medical  science  in  all  its  branches,  and  the 
monarchs  and  powerful  barons  of  the  time  frequently 
committed  themselves  to  the  charge  of  some  experienced 
sage  among  this  despised  people,  when  wounded  or  in  sick- 
ness. The  aid  of  the  Jewish  physicians  was  not  the  less 
eagerly  sought  after,  though  a  general  belief  prevailed 
among  the  Christians,  that  the  Jewish  Rabbins  were  deeply 
acquainted  with  the  occult  sciences,  and  particularly  with 
the  cabalistical  art,  which  had  its  name  and  origin  in  the 
studies  of  the  sages  of  Israel.  Neither  did  the  Rabbins 
disown  such  acquaintance  with  supernatural  arts,  which 
added  nothing  —  for  what  could  add  aught  ?  — »-  to  the  ha- 
tred with  which  their  nation  was  regarded,  while  it  di- 
minished the  contempt  with  which  that  malevolence  was 
mingled.  A  Jewish  magician  might  be  the  subject  of 
equal  abhorrence  with  a  Jewish  usurer,  but  he  could  not 
be  equally  despised.  It  is,  besides,  probable,  considering 
the  wonderful  cures  they  are  said  to  have  performed,  that 
the  Jews  possessed  some  secrets  of  the  healing  art  pe- 
culiar to  themselves,  and  which,  with  the  exclusive  spirit 
arising  out  of  their  condition,  they  took  great  care  to 
conceal  from  the  Christians  amongst  whom  they  dwelt. 

The  beautiful  Rebecca  had  been  needfully  brought  up 
in  all  the  knowledge  proper  to  her  nation,  which  her  apt 


IVANHOE.  283 

and  powerful  mind  had  retained,  arranged,  and  enlarged, 
in  the  course  of  a  progress  beyond  her  years,  her  sex,  and 
even  the  age  in  which  she  lived.  Her  knowledge  of  medi- 
cine and  of  the  healing  art  had  been  acquired  under  an 
aged  Jewess,  the  daughter  of  one  of  their  most  celebrated 
doctors,  who  loved  Rebecca  as  her  own  child,  and  was  be- 
lieved to  have  communicated  to  her  secrets  which  had 
been  left  to  herself  by  her  sage  father  at  the  same  time, 
and  under  the  same  circumstances.  The  fate  of  Miriam 
had  indeed  been  to  fall  a  sacrifice  to  the  fanaticism  of 
the  times  ;    but  her  secrets  had  survived  in  her  apt  pupil. 

Rebecca,  thus  endowed  with  knowledge  as  with  beauty, 
was  universally  revered  and  admired  by  her  own  tribe, 
who  almost  regarded  her  as  one  of  those  gifted  women 
mentioned  in  the  sacred  history.  Her  father  himself,  out 
of  reverence  for  her  talents,  which  involuntarily  mingled 
itself  with  his  unbounded  affection,  permitted  the  maiden 
a  greater  liberty  than  was  usually  indulged  to  those  of 
her  sex  by  the  habits  of  her  people,  and  was,  as  we  have 
just  seen,  frequently  guided  by  her  opinion,  even  in  pref- 
erence to  his  own. 

When  Ivanhoe  reached  the  habitation  of  Isaac,  he  was 
still  in  a  state  of  unconsciousness,  owing  to  the  profuse 
loss  of  blood  which  had  taken  place  during  his  exertions 
in  the  lists.  Rebecca  examined  the  wound,  and  having 
applied  to  it  such  vulnerary  remedies  as  her  art  prescribed, 
informed  her  father  that  if  fever  could  be  averted,  of  which 
the  great  bleeding  rendered  her  little  apprehensive,  and  if 
the  healing  balsam  of  Miriam  retained  its  virtue,  there 
was  nothing  to  fear  for  his  guest's  life,  and  that  he  might 
with  safety  travel  to  York  with  them  on  the  ensuing  day. 
Isaac  looked  a  little  blank  at  this  annunciation.  His  char- 
ity would  willingly  have  stopped  short  at  Ashby,  or  at 
•most  would  have  left  the  wounded  Christian  to  be  tended 
in  the  house  where  he  was  residing  at  present,  with  an 
assurance  to  the  Hebrew  to  whom  it  belonged  that  all  ex- 
penses should  be  duly  discharged.  To  this,  however,  Re- 
becca opposed  many  reasons,  of  which  we  shall  only  men- 
tion two  that  had  peculiar  weight  with  Isaac.  The  one 
was,  that  she  would  on  no  account  put  the  phial  of  pre- 


284  IVANHOE. 

cious  balsam  into  the  hands  of  another  physician  even  of 
her  own  tribe,  lest  that  valuable  mystery  should  be  dis- 
covered; the  other,  that  this  wounded  knight,  Wilfred  of 
Ivanhoe,  was  an  intimate  favourite  of  Richard  Coeur-de- 
Lion,  and  that,  in  case  the  monarch  should  return,  Isaac, 
who  had  supplied  his  brother  John  with  treasure  to  prose- 
cute his  rebellious  purposes,  would  stand  in  no  small  need 
of  a  powerful  protector  who  enjoyed  Richard's  favour. 

"  Thou  art  speaking  but  sooth,  Rebecca,"  said  Isaac,  giv- 
ing way  to  these  weighty  arguments  —  "  it  were  an  offend- 
ing of  Heaven  to  betray  the  secrets  of  the  blessed  Miriam  ; 
for  the  good  which  Heaven  giveth  is  not  rashly  to  be  squan- 
dered upon  others,  whether  it  be  talents  of  gold  and  shek- 
els of  silver,  or  whether  it  be  the  secret  mysteries  of  a  wise 
physician  —  assuredly  they  should  be  preserved  to  those  to 
whom  Providence  hath  vouchsafed  them.  And  him  whom 
the  Nazarenes  of  England  call  the  Lion's  Heart  —  assur- 
edly it  were  better  for  me  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  a 
strong  lion  of  Idumea  than  into  his,  if  he  shall  have  got 
assurance  of  my  dealing  with  his  brother.  Wherefore  I 
will  lend  ear  to  thy  counsel,  and  this  youth  shall  journey 
with  us  unto  York,  and  our  house  shall  be  as  a  home  to 
him  until  his  wounds  shall  be  healed.  And  if  he  of  the 
Lion  Heart  shall  return  to  the  land,  as  is  now  noised  abroad, 
then '  shall  this  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe  be  unto  me  as  a  wall 
of  defence,  when  the  king's  displeasure  shall  burn  high 
against  thy  father.  Andtif  he  doth  not  return,  this  Wil- 
fred may  natheless  repay  us  our  charges  when  he  shall  gain 
treasure  by  the  strength  of  his  spear  and  of  his  sword, 
even  as  he  did  yesterday  and  this  day  also.  For  the  youth 
is  a  good  youth,  and  keepeth  the  day  which  he  appointeth, 
and  restoreth  that  which  he  borroweth,  and  succoureth  the 
Israelite,  even  the  child  of  my  father's  house,  when  he  is 
encompassed  by  strong  thieves  and  sons  of  Belial." 

It  was  not  until  evening  was  nearly  closed  that  Ivan- 
hoe was  restored  to  consciousness  of  his  situation.  He 
awoke  from  a  broken  slumber,  under  the  confused  im- 
pressions which  are  naturally  attendant  on  the  recovery 
from  a  state  of  insensibility.  He  was  unable  for  some 
time  to  recall  exactly  to  memory  the  circumstances  which 


IVAN  HOE.  285 

had  preceded  his  fall  in  the  lists,  or  to  make  out  any 
connected  chain  of  the  events  in  which  he  had  been 
engaged  upon  the  yesterday.  A  sense  of  wounds  and 
injury,  joined  to  great  weakness  and  exhaustion,  was 
mingled  with  the  recollection  of  blows  dealt  and  received, 
of  steeds  rushing  upon  each  other,  overthrowing  and 
overthrown,  of  shouts  and  clashing  of  arms,  and  all  the 
heavy  tumult  of  a  confused  fight.  An  effort  to  draw 
aside  the  curtain  of  his  couch  was  in  some  degree  success- 
ful, although  rendered  difficult  by  the  pain  of  his  wound. 

To  his  great  surprise,  he  found  himself  in  a  room 
magnificently  furnished,  but  having  cushions  instead  of 
chairs  to  rest  upon,  and  in  other  respects  partaking  so 
much  of  Oriental  costume  that  he  began  to  doubt  whether 
he  had  not,  during  his  sleep,  been  transported  back  again 
to  the  land  of  Palestine.  The  impression  was  increased 
when,  the  tapestry  being  drawn  aside,  a  female  form, 
dressed  in  a  rich  habit,  which  partook  more  of  the  East- 
ern taste  than  that  of  Europe,  glided  through  the  door 
which  it  concealed,  and  was  followed  by  a  swarthy 
domestic. 

As  the  wounded  knight  was  about  to  address  this  fair 
apparition,  she  imposed  silence  by  placing  her  slender 
finger  upon  her  ruby  lips,  while  the  attendant,  approach- 
ing him,  proceeded  to  uncover  Ivanhoe's  side,  and  the 
lovely  Jewess  satisfied  herself  that  the  bandage  was  in 
its  place,  and  the  wound  doing  well.  She  performed 
her  task  with  a  graceful  and  dignified  simplicity  and 
modesty,  which  might,  even  in  more  civilised  days,  have 
served  to  redeem  it  from  whatever  might  seem  repug- 
nant to  female  delicacy.  The  idea  of  so  young  and 
beautiful  a  person  engaged  in  attendance  on  a  sick-bed, 
or  in  dressing  the  wound  of  one  of  a  different  sex,  was 
melted  away  and  lost  in  that  of  a  beneficent  being  con- 
tributing her  effectual  aid  to  relieve  pain,  and  to  avert 
the  stroke  of  death.  Rebecca's  few  and  brief  directions 
were  given  in  the  Hebrew  language  to  the  old  domestic ; 
and  he,  who  had  been  frequently  her  assistant  in  similar 
cases,  obeyed  them  without  reply. 

The  accents  of  an  unknown   tongue,  however   harsh 


286  IVANHOE. 

they  might  have  sounded  when  uttered  by  another,  had, 
coming  from  the  beautiful  Rebecca,  the  romantic  and 
pleasing  effect  which  fancy  ascribes  to  the  charms  pro- 
nounced by  some  beneficent  fairy,  unintelligible,  indeed, 
to  the  ear,  but  from  the  sweetness  of  utterance  and  be- 
nignity of  aspect  which  accompanied  them,  touching  and 
affecting  to  the  heart.  Without  making  an  attempt  at 
further  question,  Ivanhoe  suffered  them  in  silence  to 
take  the  measures  they  thought  most  proper  for  his 
recovery ;  and  it  was  not  until  those  were  completed, 
and  this  kind  physician  about  to  retire,  that  his  curi- 
osity could  no  longer  be  suppressed.  "  Gentle  maiden," 
he  began  in  the  Arabian  tongue,  with  which  his  Eastern 
travels  had  rendered  him  familiar,  and  which  he  thought 
most  likely  to  be  understood  by  the  turbaned  and  caf- 
taned  damsel  who  stood  before  him,  "  I  pray  you,  gentle 
maiden,  of  your  courtesy " 

But  here  he  was  interrupted  by  his  fair  physician, 
a  smile  which  she  could  scarce  suppress  dimpling  for  an 
instant  a  face  whose  general  expression  was  that  of  con- 
templative melancholy.  "  I  am  of  England,  Sir  Knight, 
and  speak  the  English  tongue,  although  my  dress  and 
my  lineage  belong  to  another  climate." 

"  Noble  damsel "  again   the   Knight  of   Ivanhoe 

began,  and  again  Rebecca  hastened  to  interrupt  him. 

"  Bestow  not  on  me,  Sir  Knight,"  she  said,  "  the  epi- 
thet of  noble.  It  is  well  you  should  speedily  know 
that  your  handmaiden  is  a  poor  Jewess,  the  daughter 
of  that  Isaac  of  York  to  whom  you  were  so  lately  a  good 
and  kind  lord.  It  well  becomes  him  and  those  of  his 
household  to  render  to  you  such  careful  tendance  as  your 
present  state  necessarily  demands." 

I  know  not  whether  the  fair  Rowena  would  have  been 
altogether  satisfied  with  the  species  of  emotion  with 
which  her  devoted  knight  had  hitherto  gazed  on  the 
beautiful  features,  and  fair  form,  and  lustrous  eyes  of 
the  lovely  Rebecca  —  eyes  whose  brilliancy  was  shaded, 
and,  as  it  were,  mellowed,  by  the  fringe  of  her  long  silken 
eyelashes,  and  which  a  minstrel  would  have  compared 
to  the  evening  star  darting  its  rays  through  a  bower  of 


IVANHOE.  287 

jessamine.  But  Ivanhoe  was  too  good  a  Catholic  to 
retain  the  same  class  of  feelings  towards  a  Jewess. 
This  Rebecca  had  foreseen,  and  for  this  very  purpose 
she  had  hastened  to  mention  her  father's  name  and  line- 
age ;  yet  —  for  the  fair  and  wise  daughter  of  Isaac  was 
not  without  a  touch  of  female  weakness  —  she  could  not 
but  sigh  internally  when  the  glance  of  respectful  admira- 
tion, not  altogether  unmixed  with  tenderness,  with  which 
Ivanhoe  had  hitherto  regarded  his  unknown  benefactress, 
was  exchanged  at  once  for  a  manner  cold,  composed,  and 
collected,  and  fraught  with  no  deeper  feeling  than  that 
which  expressed  a  grateful  sense  of  courtesy  received 
from  an  unexpected  quarter,  and  from  one  of  an  inferior 
race.  It  was  not  that  Ivanhoe's  former  carriage  expressed 
more  than  that  general  devotional  homage  which  youth 
always  pays  to  beauty ;  yet  it  was  mortifying  that  one 
word  should  operate  as  a  spell  to  remove  poor  Rebecca, 
who  could  not  be  supposed  altogether  ignorant  of  her 
title  to  such  homage,  into  a  degraded  class,  to  whom  it 
could  not  be  honourably  rendered. 

But  the  gentleness  and  candour  of  Rebecca's  nature 
imputed  no  fault  to  Ivanhoe  for  sharing  in  the  universal 
prejudices  of  his  age  and  religion.  On  the  contrary, 
the  fair  Jewess,  though  sensible  her  patient  now  regarded 
her  as  one  of  a  race  of  reprobation,  with  whom  it  was 
disgraceful  to  hold  any  beyond  the  most  necessary  inter- 
course, ceased  not  to  pay  the  same  patient  and  devoted 
attention  to  his  safety  and  convalescence.  She  informed 
him  of  the  necessity  they  were  under  of  removing  to 
York,  and  of  her  father's  resolution  to  transport  him 
thither,  and  tend  him  in  his  own  house  until  his  health 
should  be  restored.  Ivanhoe  expressed  great  repugnance 
to  this  plan,  which  he  grounded  on  unwillingness  to  give 
farther  trouble  to  his  benefactors. 

"  Was  there  not,"  he  said,  "  in  Ashby,  or  near  it,  some 
Saxon  franklin,  or  even  some  wealthy  peasant,  who 
would  endure  the  burden  of  a  wounded  countryman's 
residence  with  him  until  he  should  be  again  able  to  bear 
his  armour?  —  was  there  no  convent  of  Saxon  endow- 
ment where  he  could  be  received  ?  —  or  could  he  not  be 


© 


288  IVANHOE. 

transported  as  far  as  Burton,  where  he  was  sure  to  find 
hospitality  with  Waltheoff,  the  Abbot  of  St.  Withold's, 
to  whom  he  was  related  ?  " 

il-  Any,  the  worst  of  these  harbourages,"  said  Rebecca, 
with  a  melancholy  smile,  "  would  unquestionably  be 
more  fitting  for  your  residence  than  the  abode  of  a  de- 
spised Jew ;  yet,  Sir  Knight,  unless  you  would  dismiss 
your  physician,  you  cannot  change  your  lodging.  Our  . 
nation,  as  you  well  know,  can  cure  wounds,  though  we 
deal  not  in  inflicting  them ;  and  in  our  own  family,  in 
particular,  are  secrets  which  have  been  handed  down 
since  the  days  of  Solomon,  and  of  which  you  have  already 
experienced  the  advantages.  No  Nazarene  —  I  crave 
your  forgiveness,  Sir  Knight  —  no  Christian  leech,  within 
the  four  seas  of  Britain,  could  enable  you  to  bear  your 
corslet  within  a  month." 

"  And  how  soon  wilt  thou  enable  me  to  brook  it  ?  "  said 
Ivanhoe,  impatiently. 

"  Within  eight  days,  if  thou  wilt  be  patient  and  con- 
formable to  my  directions,"  replied  Rebecca. 

"  By  Our  Blessed  Lady,"  said  Wilfred,  "  if  it  be  not  a 
sin  to  name  her  here,  it  is  no  time  for  me  or  any  true 
knight  to  be  bedridden ;  and  if  thou  accomplish  thy  prom- 
ise, maiden,  I  will  pay  thee  with  my  casque  full  of  crowns, 
come  by  them  as  I  may." 

"  I  will  accomplish  my  promise,"  said  Rebecca,  "  and 
thou  shalt  bear  thine  armour  on  the  eighth  day  from 
hence,  if  thou  wilt  grant  me  but  one  boon  in  the  stead  of 
the  silver  thou  dost  promise  me." 

"  If  it  be  within  my  power,  and  such  as  a  true  Christian 
knight  may  yield  to  one  of  thy  people,"  replied  Ivanhoe, 
"  I  will  grant  thy  boon  blythely  and  thankfully."  _ 

{  "  Nay,"  answered  Rebecca,  "  I  will  but  pray  of  thee  to 
believe  henceforward  that  a  Jew  may  do  good  service  to 
a  Christian,  without  desiring  other  guerdon  than  the. 
blessing  of  the  Great  Father  who  made  both  Jew  and 
Gentile." 

"It  were  sin  to  doubt  it,  maiden,"  replied  Ivanhoe;    J 
"  and  I  repose  myself  on  thy  skill  without  further  scruple  * 
or  question,  well  trusting  you  will  enable  me  to  bear  my 


IV AN  HOE.  289 

corslet  on  the  eighth  day.  And  now,  my  kind  leech, 
let  me  inquire  of  the  news  abroad.  What  of  the  noble 
Saxon  Cedric  and  his  household  ?  —  what  of  the  lovely 

Lady "     He  stopt,  as  if  unwilling  to  speak  Rowena's 

name  in  the  house  of  a  Jew —  "Of  her,  I  mean,  who  was 
named  Queen  of  the  tournament  ?  " 

"  And  who  was  selected  by  you,  Sir  Knight,  to  hold 
that  dignity,  with  judgment  which  was  admired  as  much 
as  your  valour,"  replied  Rebecca. 

The  blood  which  Ivanhoe  had  lost  did  not  prevent  a 
flush  from  crossing  his  cheek,  feeling  that  he  had  incau- 
tiously betrayed  his  deep  interest  in  Rowena  by  the  awk- 
ward attempt  he  had  made  to  conceal  it. 

"  It  was  less  of  her  I  would  speak,"  said  he,  "  than 
of  Prince  John  5  and  I  would  fain  know  somewhat  of  a 
faithful  squire,  and  why  he  now  attends  me  not?" 

"Let  me  use  my  authority  as  a  leech,"  answered  Re- 
becca, "and  enjoin  you  to  keep  silence,  and  avoid  agitat- 
ing reflections,  whilst  I  apprise  you  of  what  you  desire  to 
know.  Prince  John  hath  broken  off  the  tournament,  and 
set  forward  in  all  haste  towards  York,  with  the  nobles, 
knights,  and  churchmen  of  his  party,  after  collect- 
ing such  sums  as  they  could  wring,  by  fair  means 
or  foul,  from  those  who  are  esteemed  the  wealthy  of 
the  land.  It  is  said  he  designs  to  assume  his  brother's 
crown." 

"Not  without  a  blow  struck  in  its  defence,"  said  Ivan- 
hoe, raising  himself  upon  the  couch,  "if  there  were  but 
one  true  subject  in  England.  I  will  fight  for  Richard's 
title  with  the  best  of  them  —  ay,  one  to  two,  in  his  just 
quarrel !  " 

"  But  that  you  may  be  able  to  do  so,"  said  Rebecca, 
touching  his  shoulder  with  her  hand,  "  you  must  now 
observe  my  directions,  and  remain  quiet." 

"  True,  maiden,"  said  Ivanhoe,  "  as  quiet  as  these  dis- 
quieted times  will  permit.  —  And  of  Cedric  and  his  house- 
hold ?  " 

"His  steward  came  but  brief  while  since,"  said  the 
Jewess,  "  panting  with  haste,  to  ask  my  father  for  cer- 
tain monies,  the  price  of  wool  the  growth  of  Cedric's 
c 


290  IVANHOE. 

flocks,  and  from  him  I  learned  that  Cedric  and  Athel- 
stane  of  Coningsburgh  had  left  Prince  John's  lodging  in 
high  displeasure,  and  were  about  to  set  forth  on  their 
return  homeward." 

"  Went  any  lady  with  them  to  the  banquet  ? "  said 
Wilfred. 

"The  Lady  Rowena,"  said  Rebecca,  answering  the 
question  with  more  precision  than  it  had  been  asked  — 
"  the  Lady  Rowena  went  not  to  the  Prince's  feast,  and, 
as  the  steward  reported  to  us,  she  is  now  on  her  journey 
back  to  Rotherwood  with  her  guardian  Cedric.  And 
touching  your  faithful  squire  Gurth " 

"  Ha ! "  exclaimed  the  knight,  "knowest  thou  his  name  ? 

—  But  thou  dost,"  he  immediately  added,  "  and  well 
thou  mayst,  for  it  was  from  thy  hand,  and,  as  I  am  now 
convinced,  from  thine  own  generosity  of  spirit,  that  he 
received  but  yesterday  a  hundred  zecchins." 

"  Speak  not  of  that,"  said  Rebecca,  blushing  deeply ; 
"  I  see  how  easy  it  is  for  the  tongue  to  betray  what  the 
heart  would  gladly  conceal." 

"  But  this  sum  of  gold,"  said  Ivanhoe,  gravely,  "  my 
honour  is  concerned  in  repaying  it  to  your  father." 

"Let  it  be  as  thou  wilt,"  said  Rebecca,  "when  eight 
days  have  passed  away ;  but  think  not,  and  speak  not, 
now  of  aught  that  may  retard  thy  recovery." 

"  Be  it  so,  kind  maiden,"  said  Ivanhoe ;  "  I  were  most 
ungrateful  to  dispute  thy  commands.  But  one  word  of 
the  fate  of  poor  Gurth,  and  I  have  done  with  questioning 
thee." 

"I  grieve  to  tell  thee,  Sir  Knight,"  answered  the 
Jewess,  "  that  he  is  in  custody  by  the  order  of  Cedric." 

—  And  then  observing  the  distress  which  her  communi- 
cation gave  to  Wilfred,  she  instantly  added  :  "  But  the 
steward  Oswald  said,  that  if  nothing  occurred  to  renew 
his  master's  displeasure  against  him,  he  was  sure  that 
Cedric  would  pardon  Gurth,  a  faithful  serf,  and  one  who 
stood  high  in  favour,  and  who  had  but  committed  this 
error  out  of  the  love  which  he  bore  to  Cedric's  son.  And 
he  said,  moreover,  that  he  and  his  comrades,  and  espe- 
cially Wamba,  the  Jester,  were  resolved  to  warn  Gurth 


IVANHOE.  291 

to   make   his   escape   by  the  way,  in   case  Cedric's   ire 
against  him  could  not  be  mitigated." 

"  Would  to  Grod  they  may  keep  their  purpose ! "  said 
Ivanhoe ;  "  but  it  seems  as  if  I  were  destined  to  bring 
ruin  on  whomsoever  hath  shown  kindness  to  me.  My 
king,  by  whom  I  was  honoured  and  distinguished  —  thou 
seest  that  the  brother  most  indebted  to  him  is  raising  his 
arms  to  grasp  his  crown  ;  —  my  regard  hath  brought  re- 
straint and  trouble  on  the  fairest  of  her  sex;  —  and  now 
my  father  in  his  mood  may  slay  this  poor  bondsman,  but 
for  his  love  and  loyal  service  to  me !  — Thou  seest,  maiden, 
what  an  ill-fated  wretch  thou  dost  labour  to  assist ;  be  wise, 
and  let  me  go,  ere  the  misfortunes  which  track  my  foot- 
steps like  slot-hounds,  shall  involve  thee  also  in  their  pur- 
suit." 

"  Nay,"  said  Kebecca,  "  thy  weakness  and  thy  grief,  Sir 
Knight,  make  thee  miscalculate  the  purposes  of  Heaven. 
Thou  hast  been  restored  to  thy  country  when  it  most 
needed  the  assistance  of  a  strong  hand  and  a  true  heart, 
and  thou  hast  humbled  the  pride  of  thine  enemies  and 
those  of  thy  king,  when  their  horn  was  most  highly  ex 
alted ;  and  for  the  evil  which  thou  hast  sustained,  seest 
thou  not  that  Heaven  has  raised  thee  a  helper  and  a 
physician,  even  among  the  most  despised  of  the  land  ? 
—  Therefore,  be  of  good  courage,  and  trust  that  thou  art 
preserved  for  some  marvel  which  thine  arm  shall  work 
before  this  people.  Adieu  —  and  having  taken  the  medi- 
cine which  I  shall  send  thee  by  the  hand  of  Keuben,  com- 
pose thyself  again  to  rest,  that  thou  mayst  be  the  more 
able  to  endure  the  journey  on  the  succeeding  day." 

Ivanhoe  was  convinced  by  the  reasoning,  and  obeyed 
the  directions,  of  Kebecca.  The  draught  which  Reuben 
administered  was  of  a  sedative  and  narcotic  quality,  and 
secured  the  patient  sound  and  undisturbed  slumbers.  In 
the  morning  his  kind  physician  found  him  entirely  free 
from  feverish  symptoms,  and  fit  to  undergo  the  fatigue 
of  a  journey. 

He  was  deposited  in  the  horse-litter  which  had  brought 
him  from  the  lists,  and  every  precaution  taken  for  his 
travelling  with  ease.     In  one  circumstance  only  even  the 


292 


IVANHOE.  3\ 


entreaties  of  Rebecca  were  unable  to  secure  sufficient  at- 
tention to  the  accommodation  of  the  wounded  knight. 
Isaac,  like  the  enriched  traveller  of  Juvenal's  tenth 
satire,  had  ever  the  fear  of  robbery  before  his  eyes,  con- 
scious that  he  would  be  alike  accounted  fair  game  by  the 
marauding  Norman  noble  and  by  the  Saxon  outlaw.  He 
therefore  journeyed  at  a  great  rate,  and  made  short  halts 
and  shorter  repasts,  so  that  he  passed  by  Cedric  and 
Athelstane,  who  had  several  hours  the  start  of  him,  but 
who  had  been  delayed  by  their  protracted  feasting  at  the 
convent  of  St.  Withold's.  Yet  such  was  the  virtue  of 
Miriam's  balsam,  or  such  the  strength  of  Ivanhoe's  con- 
stitution, that  he  did  not  sustain  from  the  hurried  jour- 
ney that  inconvenience  which  his  kind  physician  had 
apprehended. 

In  another  point  of  view,  however,  the  Jew's  haste 
proved  somewhat  more  than  good  speed.  The  rapidity 
with  which  he  insisted  on  travelling  bred  several  disputes 
between  him  and  the  party  whom  he  had  hired  to  attend 
him  as  a  guard.  These  men  were  Saxons,  and  not  free 
by  any  means  from  the  national  love  of  ease  and  good 
living  which  the  Normans  stigmatised  as  laziness  and 
gluttony.  Reversing  Shylock's  position,  they  had  ac- 
cepted the  employment  in  hopes  of  feeding  upon  the 
wealthy  Jew,  and  were  very  much  displeased  when  they 
found  themselves  disappointed  by  the  rapidity  with  which 
he  insisted  on  their  proceeding.  They  remonstrated  also 
upon  the  risk  of  damage  to  their  horses  by  these  forced 
marches.  Finally,  there  arose  betwixt  Isaac  and  his 
satellites  a  deadly  feud  concerning  the  quantity  of  wine 
and  ale  to  be  allowed  for  consumption  at  each  meal. 
And  thus  it  happened,  that  when  the  alarm  of  danger 
approached,  and  that  which  Isaac  feared,  was  likely  to 
come  upon  him,  he  was  deserted  by  the  discontented 
mercenaries,  on  whose  protection  he  had  relied  without 
using  the  means  necessary  to  secure  their  attachment. 

In  this  deplorable  condition,  the  Jew,  with  his  daugh- 
ter and  her  wounded  patient,  were  found  by  Cedric,  as 
has  already  been  noticed,  and  soon  afterwards  fell  into 
the  power  of   De   Bracy  and   his  confederates.      Little 


IVANHOE.  293 

nonce  was  at  first  taken  of  the  horse-litter,  and  it  might 
have  remained  behind  but  for  the  curiosity  of  De  Bracy, 
who  looked  into  it  under  the  impression  that  it  might 
contain  the  object  of  his  enterprise,  for  Rowena  had  not 
unveiled  herself.  But  De  Bracy's  astonishment  was  con- 
siderable when  he  discovered  that  the  litter  contained  a 
wounded  man,  who,  conceiving  himself  to  have  fallen 
into  the  power  of  Saxon  outlaws,  with  whom  his  name 
might  be  a  protection  for  himself  and  his  friends,  frankly 
avowed  himself  to  be  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe. 

The  ideas  of  chivalrous  honour,  which,  amidst  his 
wildness  and  levity,  never  utterly  abandoned  De  Bracy, 
prohibited  him  from  doing  the  knight  any  injury  in  his 
defenceless  condition,  and  equally  interdicted  his  be- 
traying him  to  Front-de-Boeuf,  who  would  have  had  no 
scruples  to  put  to  death,  under  any  circumstances,  the 
rival  claimant  of  the  fief  of  Ivanhoe.  On  the  other 
hand,  to  liberate  a  suitor  preferred  by  the  Lady  Rowena, 
as  the  events  of  the  tournament,  and  indeed  Wilfred's 
previous  banishment  from  his  father's  house,  had  made 
matter  of  notoriety,  was  a  pitch  far  above  the  flight  of 
De  Bracy's  generosity.  A  middle  course  betwixt  good 
and  evil  was  all  which  he  found  himself  capable  of 
adopting,  and  he  commanded  two  of  his  own  squires  to 
keep  close  by  the  litter,  and  to  suffer  no  one  to  approach 
it.  If  questioned,  they  were  directed  by  their  master  to 
say  that  the  empty  litter  of  the  Lady  Rowena  was  em- 
ployed to  transport  one  of  their  comrades  who  had  been 
wounded  in  the  scuffle.  On  arriving  at  Torquilstone, 
while  the  Knight  Templar  and  the  lord  of  that  castle 
were  each  intent  upon  their  own  schemes,  the  one  on 
the  Jew's  treasure,  and  the  other  on  his  daughter,  De 
Bracy's  squires  conveyed  Ivanhoe,  still  under  the  name 
of  a  wounded  comrade,  to  a  distant  apartment.  This 
explanation  was  accordingly  returned  by  these  men  to 
Front-de-Boeuf,  when  he  questioned  them  why  they  did 
not  make  for  the  battlements  upon  the  alarm. 

"  A  wounded  companion ! '  be  replied  in  great  wratn 
and  astonishment.  "No  wonder  that  churls  and  yeo- 
men wax  so  presumptuous  as  even  to  lay  leaguer  before 


294  IVANHOE. 

castles,  and  that  clowns  and  swineherds  send  defiances 
to  nobles,  since  men-at-arms  have  turned  sick  men's 
nurses,  and  Free  Companions  are  grown  keepers  of  dy- 
ing folks'  curtains,  when  the  castle  is  about  to  be  as- 
sailed. —  To  the  battlements,  ye  loitering  villains ! "  he 
exclaimed,  raising  his  stentorian  voice  till  the  arches 
around  rung  again  —  "to  the  battlements,  or  I  will 
splinter  your  bones  with  this  truncheon ! " 

The  men  sulkily  replied  that  they  desired  nothing 
better  than  to  go  to  the  battlements,  providing  Front-de- 
Boeuf  would  bear  them  out  with  their  master,  who  had 
commanded  them  to  tend  the  dying  man. 

"The  dying  man,  knaves!"  rejoined  the  baron;  "I 
promise  thee,  we  shall  all  be  dying  men,  an  we  stand 
not  to  it  the  more  stoutly.  But  I  will  relieve  the  guard 
upon  this  caitiff  companion  of  yours.  —  Here,  Urf ried  — 
hag  —  fiend  of  a  Saxon  witch  —  hearest  me  not  ?  Tend 
me  this  bedridden  fellow,  since  he  must  needs  be  tended, 
whilst  these  knaves  use  their  weapons.  —  Here  be  two 
arblasts,  comrades,  with  windlaces  and  quarrels  —  to  the 
barbican  with  you,  and  see  you  drive  each  bolt  through 
a  Saxon  brain." 

The  men,  who,  like  most  of  their  description,  were 
fond  of  enterprise  and  detested  inaction,  went  joyfully 
to  the  scene  of  danger  as  they  were  commanded,  and 
thus  the  charge  of  Ivanhoe  was  transferred  to  Urfried, 
or  Ulrica.  But  she,  whjose  brain  was  burning  with  re- 
membrance of  injuries  and  with  hopes  of  vengeance,  was 
readily  induced  to  devolve  upon  Rebecca  the  care  of  her 
patient. 

CHAPTER   XXIX. 

Ascend  the  watch-tower  yonder,  valiant  soldier, 
Look  on  the  field,  and  say  how  goes  the  battle. 

Schiller's  Maid  of  Orleans. 

A  moment  of  peril  is  often  also  a  moment  of  open- 
hearted  kindness  and  affection.  We  are  thrown  off  our 
guard  by  the  general  agitation  of  our  feelings,  and  betray 


IVANHOE.  295 

the  intensity  of  those  which,  at  more  tranquil  periods, 
our  prudence  at  least  conceals,  if  it  cannot  altogether 
suppress  them.  In  finding  herself  once  more  by  the  side 
of  Ivanhoe,  Kebecca  was  astonished  at  the  keen  sensa- 
tion of  pleasure  which  she  experienced,  even  at  a  time 
when  all  around  them  both  was  danger,  if  not  despair. 
As  she  felt  his  pulse,  and  inquired  after  his  health,  there 
was  a  softness  in  her  touch  and  in  her  accents,  implying 
a  kinder  interest  than  she  would  herself  have  been 
pleased  to  have  voluntarily  expressed.  Her  voice  fal- 
tered and  her  hand  trembled,  and  it  was  only  the  cold 
question  of  Ivanhoe,  "  Is  it  you,  gentle  maiden  ?  "  which 
recalled  her  to  herself,  and  reminded  her  the  sensations 
which  she  felt  were  not  and  could  not  be  mutual.  A 
sigh  escaped,  but  it  was  scarce  audible;  and  the  ques- 
tions which  she  asked  the  knight  concerning  his  state  of 
health  were  put  in  the  tone  of  calm  friendship.  Ivanhoe 
answered  her  hastily  that  he  was,  in  point  of  health,  as 
well,  and  better,  than  he  could  have  expected — "  Thanks," 
he  said,  "  dear  Rebecca,  to  thy  helpful  skill." 

"  He  calls  me  dear  Rebecca,"  said  the  maiden  to  her- 
self, "but  it  is  in  the  cold  and  careless  tone  which  ill 
suits  the  word.  His  war-horse  —  his  hunting  hound,  are 
dearer  to  him  than  the  despised  Jewess  !  " 

"My  mind,  gentle  maiden,"  continued  Ivanhoe,  "is 
more  disturbed  by  anxiety  than  my  body  with  pain. 
From  the  speeches  of  these  men  who  were  my  warders 
just  now,  I  learn  that  I  am  a  prisoner,  and,  if  I  judge 
aright  of  the  loud  hoarse  voice  which  even  now  dis- 
patched them  hence  on  some  military  duty,  I  am  in  the 
castle  of  Front-de-Boeuf.  If  so,  how  will  this  end,  or 
how  can  I  protect  Rowena  and  my  father  ?  " 

"  He  names  not  the  Jew  or  Jewess,"  said  Rebecca,  in- 
ternally; "yet  what  is  our  portion  in  him,  and  how 
justly  am  I  punished  by  Heaven  for-  letting  my  thoughts 
dwell  upon  him ! "  She  hastened  after  this  brief  self- 
accusation  to  give  Ivanhoe  what  information  she  could ; 
but  it  amounted  only  to  this,  that  the  Templar  Bois- 
Guilbert  and  the  Baron  Front-de-Boeuf  were  command- 
ers  within  the   castle;    that   it   was   beleaguered   from 


296  IVANHOE. 

without,  but  by  whom  she  knew  not.  She  added,  that 
there  was  a  Christian  priest  within  the  castle  who  might 
be  possessed  of  more  information. 

"  A  Christian  priest ! "  said  the  knight,  joyfully ; 
"  fetch  him  hither,  Rebecca,  if  thou  canst  —  say  a  sick 
\man  desires  his  ghostly  counsel  —  say  what  thou  wilt, 
but  bring  him ;  something  I  must  do  or  attempt,  but 
how  can  I  determine  until  I  know  how  matters  stand 
without  ?  " 

Rebecca,  in  compliance  with  the  wishes  of  Ivanhoe, 
made  that  attempt  to  bring  Cedric  into  the  wounded 
knight's  chamber  which  was  defeated,  as  we  have  al- 
ready seen,  by  the  interference  of  Urfried,  who  had  been 
also  on  the  watch  to  intercept  the  supposed  monk.  Re- 
becca retired  to  communicate  to  Ivanhoe  the  result  of 
her  errand. 

They  had  not  much  leisure  to  regret  the  failure  of  this 
source  of  intelligence,  or  to  contrive  by  what  means  it 
might  be  supplied ;  for  the  noise  within  the  castle,  occa- 
sioned by  the  defensive  preparations,  which  had  been 
considerable  for  some  time,  now  increased  into  tenfold 
bustle  and  clamour.  The  heavy  yet  hasty  step  of  the 
men-at-arms  traversed  the  battlements,  or  resounded  on 
the  narrow  and  winding  passages  and  stairs  which  led 
to  the  various  bartizans  and  points  of  defence.  The 
voices  of  the  knights  were  heard,  animating  their  follow- 
ers, or  directing  means  of  defence,  while  their  commands 
were  often  drowned  in  the  clashing  of  armour,  or  the 
clamorous  shouts  of  those  whom  they  addressed.  Tre- 
mendous as  these  sounds  were,  and  yet  more  terrible 
from  the  awful  event  which  they  presaged,  there  was  a 
sublimity  mixed  with  them  which  Rebecca's  high-toned 
mind  could  feel  even  in  that  moment  of  terror.  Her  eye 
kindled,  although  the  blood  fled  from  her  cheeks;  and 
there  was  a  strong '  mixture  of  fear,  and  of  a  thrilling 
sense  of  the  sublime,  as  she  repeated,  half-whispering  to 
herself,  half-speaking  to  her  companion,  the  sacred  text 
—  "The  quiver  rattleth  —  the  glittering  spear  and  the 
shield  —  the  noise  of  the  captains  and  the  shouting  !  " 

But  Ivanhoe  was  like  the  war-horse  of  that  sublime 


C^3^S 


,/Afa'''ng>   KerseW"  of   ifc.    f»rd«ecTIor> 
of*   targ^e.    ancient"  sKtelfe 


IVAN-HOE.  297 

passage,  glowing  with  impatience  at  his  inactivity,  and 
with  his  ardent  desire  to  mingle  in  the  affray  of  which 
these  sounds  were  the  introduction.  "If  I  could  but 
drag  myself,"  he  said,  "  to  yonder  window,  that  I  might 
see  how  this  brave  game  is  like  to  go  —  If  I  had  but  bow 
to  shoot  a  shaft,  or  battle-axe  to  strike  were  it  but  a  single 
blow  for  our  deliverance !  It  is  in  vain  —  it  is  in  vain  — 
I  am  alike  nerveless  and  weaponless ! " 

"Fret  not  thyself,  noble  knight,"  answered  Rebecca, 
"the  sounds  have  ceased  of  a  sudden — it  may  be  they 
join  not  battle." 

"Thou  knowest  nought  of  it,"  said  Wilfred,  impa- 
tiently ;  "  this  dead  pause  only  shows  that  the  men  are  at 
their  posts  on  the  walls,  and  expecting  an  instant  attack , 
what  we  have  heard  was  but  the  distant  muttering  of  the 
storm  —  it  will  burst  anon  in  all  its  fury.  Could  I  but 
reach  yonder  window !  " 

"  Thou  wilt  but  injure  thyself  by  the  attempt,  noble 
knight,"  replied  his  attendant.  Observing  his  extreme 
solicitude,  she  firmly  added,  "  I  myself  will  stand  at  the 
lattice,  and  describe  to  you  as  I  can  what  passes  without." 

"  You  must  not  —  you  shall  not !  "  exclaimed  Ivanhoe. 
"  Each  lattice,  each  aperture,  will  be  soon  a  mark  for  the 
archers;  some  random  shaft " 

"  It  shall  be  welcome ! "  murmured  Rebecca,  as  with 
firm  pace  she  ascended  two  or  three  steps,  which  led  to 
the  window  of  which  they  spoke. 

"Rebecca  —  dear  Rebecca!  "  exclaimed  Ivanhoe,  "this 
is  no  maiden's  pastime  —  do  not  expose  thyself  to  wounds 
and  death,  and  render  me  for  ever  miserable  for  having 
given  the  occasion;  at  least,  cover  thyself  with  yonder 
ancient  buckler,  and  show  as  little  of  your  person  at  the 
lattice  as  may  be." 

Following  with  wonderful  promptitude  the  directions 
of  Ivanhoe,  and  availing  herself  of  the  protection  of  the 
large  ancient  shield,  which  she  placed  against  the  lower 
part  of  the  window,  Rebecca,  with  tolerable  security  to 
herself,  could  witness  part  of  what  was  passing  without 
the  castle,  and  report  to  Ivanhoe  the  preparations  which 
the  assailants  were  making  for  the  storm.     Indeed,  the 


298  IVANHOE. 

situation  which  she  thus  obtained  was  peculiarly  favour- 
able for  this  purpose,  because,  being  placed  on  an  angle 
of  the  main  building,  Rebecca  could  not  only  see  what 
passed  beyond  the  precincts  of  the  castle,  but  also  com- 
manded a  view  of  the  outwork  likely  to  be  the  first  object 
of  the  meditated  assault.  It  was  an  exterior  fortification 
of  no  great  height  or  strength,  intended  to  protect  the 
postern-gate,  through  which  Cedric  had  been  recently  dis- 
missed by  Front-de-Bceuf.  The  castle  moat  divided  this 
species  of  barbican  from  the  rest  of  the  fortress,  so  that, 
in  case  of  its  being  taken,  it  was  easy  to  cut  off  the  com- 
munication with  the  main  building,  by  withdrawing  the 
temporary  bridge.  In  the  outwork  was  a  sallyport  cor- 
responding to  the  postern  of  the  ,  castle,  and  the  whole 
was  surrounded  by  a  strong  palisade.  Rebecca  could  ob- 
serve, from  the  number  of  men  placed  for  the  defence  of 
this  post,  that  the  besieged  entertained  apprehensions  for 
its  safety ;  and  from  the  mustering  of  the  assailants  in  a 
direction  nearly  opposite  to  the  outwork,  it  seemed  no 
less  plain  that  it  had  been  selected  as  a  vulnerable  point 
of  attack. 

These  appearances  she  hastily  communicated  to  Ivan- 
hoe,  and  added,  "  The  skirts  of  the  woods  seem  lined 
with  archers,  although  only  a  few  are  advanced  from  its 
dark  shadow." 

"  Under  what  banner  ?  "  asked  Ivanhoe. 

"  Under  no  ensign  of  ,war  which  I  can  observe,"  an- 
swered Rebecca. 

"A  singular  novelty,"  muttered  the  knight,  "to  ad- 
vance to  storm  such  a  castle  without  pennon  or  ban- 
ner displayed  !  —  Seest  thou  who  they  be  that  act  as 
leaders  ?  " 

"  A  knight,  clad  in  sable  armour,  is  the  most  conspicu- 
ous," said  the  Jewess ;  "  he  alone  is  armed  from  head  to 
heel,  and  seems  to  assume  the  direction  of  all  around 
him." 

"  What  device  does  he  bear  on  his  shield  ? "  replied 
Ivanhoe. 

"  Something  resembling  a  bar  of  iron  and  a  padlock 
painted  blue  on  the  black  shield." 


IVANHOE.  299 

"A  fetterlock  and  shackle-bolt  azure,"  said  Ivanhoe; 
"  I  know  not  who  may  bear  the  device,  but  well  I  ween 
it  might  now  be  mine  own.  Canst  thou  not  see  the 
motto?" 

"  Scarce  the  device  itself  at  this  distance,"  replied 
Rebecca ;  "  but  when  the  sun  glances  fair  upon  his  shield 
it  shows  as  I  tell  you." 

"  Seem  there  no  other  leaders  ?  "  exclaimed  the  anxious 
inquirer. 

"  None  of  mark  and  distinction  that  I  can  behold  from 
this  station,"  said  Rebecca ;  "  but  doubtless  the  other 
side  of  the  castle  is  also  assailed.  They  appear  even 
now  preparing  to  advance  —  God  of  Zion  protect  us  !  — 
What  a  dreadful  sight !  —  Those  who  advance  first  bear 
huge  shields  and  defences  made  of  plank ;  the  others 
follow,  bending  their  bows  as  they  come  on.  —  They 
raise  their  bows  !  —  God  of  Moses,  forgive  the  creatures 
Thou  hast  made  !  " 

Her  description  was  here  suddenly  interrupted  by  the 
signal  for  assault,  which  was  given  by  the  blast  of  a 
shrill  bugle,  and  at  once  answered  by  a  nourish  of  the 
Norman  trumpets  from  the  battlements,  which,  mingled 
with  the  deep  and  hollow  clang  of  the  nakers  (a  species 
of  kettle-drum),  retorted  in  notes  of  defiance  the  chal- 
lenge of  the  enemy.  The  shouts  of  both  parties  aug- 
mented the  fearful  din,  the  assailants  crying,  "  St.  George 
for  merry  England ! "  and  the  Normans  answering  them 
with  loud  cries  of  "  En  avant  De  Bracy  !  —  Beau-seant  I 
Beau-seant!  —  Front-cle-Boeuf  a  la  rescousse!"  according 
to  the  war-cries  of  their  different  commanders. 

It  was  not,  however,  by  clamour  that  the  contest  was 
to  be  decided,  and  the  desperate  efforts  of  the  assailants 
were  met  by  an  equally  vigorous  defence  on  the  part  of 
the  besieged.  The  archers,  trained  by  their  woodland 
pastimes  to  the  most  effective  use  of  the  long-bow,  shot, 
to  use  the  appropriate  phrase  of  the  time,  so  "  wholly  to- 
gether," that  no  point  at  which  a  defender  could  show 
the  least  part  of  his  person  escaped  their  cloth-yard 
shafts.  By  this  heavy  discharge,  which  continued  as 
thick  and  sharp  as  hail,  while,  notwithstanding,  every 


300  IVANHOE. 

arrow  had  its  individual  aim,  and  flew  by  scores  together 
against  each  embrasure  and  opening  in  the  parapets,  as 
well  as  at  every  window  where  a  defender  either  occa- 
sionally had  post,  or  might  be  suspected  to  be  stationed 
—  by  this  sustained  discharge,  two  or  three  of  the  garri- 
son were  slain  and  several  others  wounded.  But,  confi- 
dent in  their  armour  of  proof,  and  in  the  cover  which 
their  situation  afforded,  the  followers  of  Front-de-Bceuf 
and  his  allies  showed  an  obstinacy  in  defence  propor- 
tioned to  the  fury  of  the  attack,  and  replied  with  the  dis- 
charge of  their  large  cross-bows,  as  well  as  with  their 
long-bows,  slings,  and  other  missile  weapons,  to  the  close 
and  continued  shower  of  arrows ;  and,  as  the  assailants 
were  necessarily  but  indifferently  protected,  did  consider- 
ably more  damage  than  they  received  at  their  hand.  The 
whizzing  of  shafts  and  of  missiles  on  both  sides  was  only 
interrupted  by  the  shouts  which  arose  when  either  side 
inflicted  or  sustained  some  notable  loss. 

"  And  I  must  lie  here  like  a  bedridden  monk,"  ex- 
claimed Ivanhoe,  "  while  the  game  that  gives  me  free- 
dom or  death  is  played  out  by  the  hand  of  others  !  — 
Look  from  the  window  once  again,  kind  maiden,  but  be- 
ware that  you  are  not  marked  by  the  archers  beneath  — 
Look  out  once  more,  and  tell  me  if  they  yet  advance  to 
the  storm." 

With  patient  courage,  strengthened  by  the  interval 
which  she  had  employe^  in  mental  devotion,  Kebecca 
again  took  post  at  the  lattice,  sheltering  herself,  however, 
so  as  not  to  be  visible  from  beneath. 

"  What  dost  thou  see,  Rebecca  ?  "  again  demanded  the 
wounded  knight. 

"  Nothing  but  the  cloud  of  arrows  flying  so  thick  as  to 
dazzle  mine  eyes,  and  to  hide  the  bowmen  who  shoot 
them." 

"  That  cannot  endure,"  said  Ivanhoe  ;  "  if  they  press 
not  right  on  to  carry  the  castle  by  pure  force  of  arms, 
the  archery  may  avail  but  little  against  stone  walls  and 
bulwarks.  Look  for  the  Knight  of  the  Fetterlock,  fair 
Rebecca,  and  see  how  he  bears  himself ;  for  as  the  leader 
is,  so  will  his  followers  be." 


IVANHOE.  301 

"  I  see  him  not,"  said  Rebecca. 

"  Foul  craven  !  "  exclaimed  Ivanhoe  ;  "  does  he  blench 
from  the  helm  when  the  wind  blows  highest  ?  " 

"  He  blenches  not !  —  he  blenches  not !  "  said  Rebecca, 
"I  see  him  now;  he  leads  a  body  of  men  close  under 
the  outer  barrier  of  the  barbican.  —  They  pull  down  the 
piles  and  palisades ;  they  hew  down  the  barriers  with 
axes.  —  His  high  black  plume  floats  abroad  over  the 
throng,  like  a  raven  over  the  field  of  the  slain.  —  They 
have  made  a  breach  in  the  barriers  —  they  rush  in  — 
they  are  thrust  back !  —  Front-de-Bceuf  heads  the  de- 
fenders ;  I  see  his  gigantic  form  above  the  press.  They 
throng  again  to  the  breach,  and  the  pass  is  disputed  hand 
to  hand,  and  man  to  man.  God  of  Jacob !  it  is  the  meet- 
ing of  two  fierce  tides  —  the  conflict  of  two  oceans  moved 
by  adverse  winds  !  " 

She  turned  her  head  from  the  lattice,  as  if  unable 
longer  to  endure  a  sight  so  terrible. 

"  Look  forth  again,  Rebecca,"  said  Ivanhoe,  mistaking 
the  cause  of  her  retiring ;  "  the  archery  must  in  some 
degree  have  ceased,  since  they  are  now  fighting  hand 
to  hand.  —  Look  again,  there  is  now  less  danger." 

Rebecca  again  looked  forth,  and  almost  immediately 
exclaimed,  "Holy  prophets  of  the  law!  Front-de-Bceuf 
and  the  Black  Knight  fight  hand  to  hand  on  the  breach, 
amid  the  roar  of  their  followers,  who  watch  the  progress 
of  the  strife  —  Heaven  strike  with  the  cause  of  the  op- 
pressed and  of  the  captive  ! "  She  then  uttered  a  loud 
shriek,  and  exclaimed,  "  He  is  down  !  —  he  is  down  ! " 

"  Who  is  down  ?  "  cried  Ivanhoe ;  "  for  our  dear  Lady's 
sake,  tell  me  which  has  fallen  ?  " 

"  The  Black  Knight,"  answered  Rebecca,  faintly ;  then 
instantly  again  shouted  with  joyful  eagerness :  "  But  no 

—  but  no !  the  name  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts  be  blessed ! 
he  is  on  foot  again,  and  fights  as  if  there  were  twenty 
men's  strength  in  his  single  arm.  —  His  sword  is  broken 

—  he  snatches  an  axe  from  a  yeomen  —  he  presses  Front- 
de-Bceuf  with  blow  on  blow  —  The  giant  stoops  and 
totters  like  an  oak  under  the  steel  of  the  woodman  —  he 
falls  —he  falls ! " 


302  IVANHOE. 

"  Front-de-Boeuf  ?  "  exclaimed  Ivanhoe. 

"  Front-de-Boeuf ,"  answered  the  Jewess.  "His  men 
rush  to  the  rescue,  headed  by  the  haughty  Templar  — 
their  united  force  compels  the  champion  to  pause.  —  They 
drag  Front-de-Boeuf  within  the  walls." 

"The  assailants  have  won  the  barriers,  have  they 
not  ?  "  said  Ivanhoe. 

"They  have  —  they  have !  "  exclaimed  Rebecca  ;  "  and 
they  press  the  besieged  hard  upon  the  outer  wall ;  some 
plant  ladders,  some  swarm  like  bees,  and  endeavour  to 
ascend  upon  the  shoulders  of  each  other  —  down  go 
stones,  beams,  and  trunks  of  trees  upon  their  heads,  and 
as  fast  as  they  bear  the  wounded  to  the  rear,  fresh  men 
supply  their  places  in  the  assault.  Great  God!  hast 
Thou  given  men  Thine  own  image  that  it  should  be  thus 
cruelly  defaced  by  the  hands  of  their  brethren  ! " 

"  Think  not  of  that,"  said  Ivanhoe ;  "  this  is  no  time 
for  such  thoughts  —  Who  yield?  —  who  push  their 
way  ?  " 

"The  ladders  are  thrown  down,"  replied  Rebecca, 
shuddering;  "the  soldiers  lie  grovelling  under  them 
like  crushed  reptiles.  —  The  besieged  have  the  better." 

"  St.  George  strike  for  us ! "  exclaimed  the  knight ; 
"  do  the  false  yeomen  give  Avay  ?  " 

"No!"  exclaimed  Rebecca, '"they  bear  themselves 
right  yeomanry.  The  Black  Knight  approaches  the 
postern  with  his  huge  axe, —  the  thundering  blows  which 
he  deals,  you  may  hear  them  above  all  the  din  and  shouts 
of  the  battle  —  Stones  and  beams  are  hailed  down  on 
the  bold  champion  —  he  regards  them  no  more  than  if 
they  were  thistle-down  or  feathers  ! " 

"By  St.  John  of  Acre,"  said  Ivanhoe,  raising  himself 
joyfully  on  his  couch,  "methought  there  was  but  one 
man  in  England  that  might  do  such  a  deed ! " 

"The  postern  gate  shakes,"  continued  Rebecca — "it 
crashes  —  it  is  splintered  by  his  blows  —  they  rush  in 
—  the  outwork  is  won.  O  God  !  they  hurl  the  defenders 
from  the  battlements  —  they  throw  them  into  the  moat. 
0  men,  if  ye  be  indeed  men,  spare  them  that  can  resist 
no  longer ! " 


IVANHOE.  303 

*  The  bridge  —  the  bridge  which  communicates  with 
the  castle  —  have  they  won  that  pass  ?  "  exclaimed 
Ivanhoe. 

"  No,"  replied  Eebecca ;  "  the  Templar  has  destroyed 
the  plank  on  which  they  crossed  —  few  of  the  defenders 
escaped  with  him  into  the  castle  —  the  shrieks  and  cries 
which  you  hear  tell  the  fate  of  the  others.  Alas  !  I  see 
it  is  still  more  difficult  to  look  upon  victory  than  upon 
battle." 

"  What  do  they  now,  maiden  ?  "  said  Ivanhoe  ;  "  look 
forth  yet  again  —  this  is  no  time  to  faint  at  bloodshed." 

"It  is  over  for  the  time,"  answered  Rebecca;  "our 
friends  strengthen  themselves  within  the  outwork  which 
they  have  mastered,  and  it  affords  them  so  good  a  shel- 
ter from  the  foemen's  shot  that  the  garrison  only  bestow 
a  few  bolts  on  it  from  interval  to  interval,  as  if  rather 
to  disquiet  than  effectually  to  injure  them." 

"  Our  friends,"  said  Wilfred,  "  will  surely  not  abandon 
an  enterprise  so  gloriously  begun  and  so  happily  at- 
tained. —  Oh,  no  !  I  will  put  my  faith  in  the  good  knight 
whose  axe  hath  rent  heart-of-oak  and  bars  of  iron.  — 
Singular,"  he  again  muttered  to  himself,  "  if  there  be 
two  who  can  do  a  deed  of  such  derring-do  !  A  fetter- 
lock and  a  shackle-bolt  on  a  field  sable  —  what  may  that 
mean  ?  Seest  thou  nought  else,  Rebecca,  by  which  the 
Black  Knight  may  be  distinguished  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  the  Jewess  :  "  all  about  him  is  black 
as  the  wing  of  the  night  raven.  Nothing  can  I  spy  that 
can  mark  him  further;  but  having  once  seen  him  put 
forth  his  strength  in  battle,  methinks  I  could  know 
him  again  among  a  thousand  warriors.  He  rushes  to 
the  fray  as  if  he  were  summoned  to  a  banquet.  There 
is  more  than  mere  strength  —  there  seems  as  if  the  whole 
soul  and  spirit  of  the  champion  were  given  to  every  blow 
which  he  deals  upon  his  enemies.  God  assoilzie  him  of 
the  sin  of  bloodshed!  —  it  is  fearful,  yet  magnificent,  to 
behold  how  the  arm  and  heart  of  one  man  can  triumph 
over  hundreds." 

"  Rebecca,"  said  Ivanhoe,  "  thou  hast  painted  a  hero ; 
surely  they  rest  but  to  refresh  their  force,  or  to  provide 


304  IVANHOE. 

the  means  of  crossing  the  moat.  Under  such  a  leader  as 
thou  hast  spoken  this  knight  to  be,  there  are  no  craven 
fears,  no  cold-blooded  delays,  no  yielding  up  a  gallant 
emprize,  since  the  difficulties  which  render  it  arduous 
render  it  also  glorious.  I  swear  by  the  honour  of  my 
house  —  I  vow  by  the  name  of  my  bright  lady-love,  I 
would  endure  ten  years'  captivity  to  fight  one  day  by 
that  good  knight's  side  in  such  a  quarrel  as  this ! " 

"  Alas ! "  said  Rebecca,  leaving  her  station  at  the 
window,  and  approaching  the  couch  of  the  wounded 
knight,  "this  impatient  yearning  after  action  —  this 
struggling  with  and  repining  at  your  present  weakness, 
will  not  fail  to  injure  your  returning  health.  How 
couldst  thou  hope  to  inflict  wounds  on  others,  ere  that 
be  healed  which  thou  thyself  hast  received  ?  " 

"  Rebecca,"  he  replied,  "  thou  knowest  not  how  im- 
possible it  is  for  one  trained  to  actions  of  chivalry  to 
remain  passive  as  a  priest,  or  a  woman,  when  they  are 
acting  deeds  of  honour  around  him.  The  love  of  battle 
is  the  food  upon  which  we  live  —  the  dust  of  the  m&lee 
is  the  breath  of  our  nostrils !  We  live  not  —  we  wish 
not  to  live  —  longer  than  while  we  are  victorious  and 
renowned.  Such,  maiden,  are  the  laws  of  chivalry  to 
which  we  are  sworn,  and  to  which  we  offer  all  that  we 
hold  dear." 

"  Alas  !  "  said  the  fair  Jewess,  "  and  what  is  it,  valiant 
knight,  save  an  offering  of  sacrifice  to  a  demon  of  vain 
glory,  and  a  passing  through  the  fire  to  Moloch  ?  What 
remains  to  you  as  the  prize  of  all  the  blood  you  have 
spilled  —  of  all  the  travail  and  pain  you  have  endured  — 
of  all  the  tears  which  your  deeds  have  caused,  when 
death  hath  broken  the  strong  man's  spear,  and  overtaken 
the  speed  of  his  war-horse  ?  " 

"What  remains?"  cried  Ivanhoe.  "Glory,  maiden  — 
glory !    which    gilds   our    sepulchre    and    embalms    our 


name." 


"  Glory  !  "  continued  Rebecca ;  "  alas  !  is  the  rusted 
mail  which  hangs  as  a  hatchment  over  the  champion's 
dim  and  mouldering  tomb,  —  is  the  defaced  sculpture  of 
the   inscription   which   the   ignorant   monk   can   hardly 


IVANHOE.  305 

read  to  the  inquiring  pilgrim  —  are  these  sufficient  re- 
wards for  the  sacrifice  of  every  kindly  affection,  for  a 
life  spent  miserably  that  ye  may  make  others  miserable  ? 
Or  is  there  such  virtue  in  the  rude  rhymes  of  a  wander- 
ing bard,  that  domestic  love,  kindly  affection,  peace  and 
happiness,  are  so  wildly  bartered,  to  become  the  hero  of 
those  ballads  which  vagabond  minstrels  sing  to  drunken 
churls  over  their  evening  ale  ?  " 

"  By  the  soul  of  Hereward ! '  replied  the  knight, 
impatiently,  "thou  speakest,  maiden,  of  thou  knowest 
not  what.  Thou  wouldst  quench  the  pure  light  of 
chivalry,  which  alone  distinguishes  the  noble  from  the 
base,  the  gentle  knight  from  the  churl  and  the  savage ; 
which  rates  our  life  far,  far  beneath  the  pitch  of  our 
honour,  raises  us  victorious  over  pain,  toil,  and  suffering, 
and  teaches  us  to  fear  no  evil  but  disgrace.  Thou  art  no 
Christian,  Kebecca;  and  to  thee  are  unknown  those 
high  feelings  which  swell  the  bosom  of  a  noble  maiden 
when  her  lover  hath  done  some  deed  of  emprize  which 
sanctions  his  flame.  Chivalry  !  —  why,  maiden,  she  is 
the  nurse  of  pure  and  high  affection,  the  stay  of  the 
oppressed,  the  redresser  of  grievances,  the  curb  of  the 
power  of  the  tyrant.  Nobility  were  but  an  empty  name 
without  her,  and  liberty  finds  the  best  protection  in  her 
lance  and  her  sword." 

"  I  am,  indeed,"  said  Kebecca,  "  sprung  from  a 
race  whose  courage  was  distinguished  in  the  defence  of 
their  own  land,  but  who  warred  not,  even  while  yet  a 
nation,  save  at  the  command  of  the  Deity,  or  in  de- 
fending their  country  from  oppression.  The  sound  of 
the  trumpet  wakes  Judah  no  longer,  and  her  despised 
children  are  now  but  the  unresisting  victims  of  hostile 
and  military  oppression.  Well  hast  thou  spoken,  Sir 
Knight  —  until  the  God  of  Jacob  shall  raise  up  for  His 
chosen  people  a  second  Gideon,  or  a  new  Maccabeus,  it 
ill  beseemeth  the  Jewish  damsel  to  speak  of  battle  or 
of  war." 

The  high-minded  maiden  concluded  the  argument  in 
a  tone  of  sorrow,  which  deeply  expressed  her  sense  of 
the  degradation  of   her  people,   embittered   perhaps  by 


306  IVANHOE. 

the  idea  that  Ivanhoe  considered  her  as  one  not  entitled 
to  interfere  in  a  case  of  honour,  and  incapable  of  enter- 
taining or  expressing  sentiments  of  honour  and  gener- 
osity. 

"How  little  he  knows  this  bosom,"  she  said,  "to 
imagine  that  cowardice  or  meanness  of  soul  must  needs 
be  its  guests,  because  I  have  censured  the  fantastic 
chivalry  of  the  Nazarenes  !  Would  to  Heaven  that  the 
shedding  of  mine  own  blood,  drop  by  drop,  could  redeem 
the  captivity  of  Judah !  Nay,  would  to  God  it  could 
avail  to  set  free  my  father,  and  this  his  benefactor,  from 
the  chains  of  the  oppressor !  The  proud  Christian 
should  then  see  whether  the  daughter  of  God's  chosen 
people  dared  not  to  die  as  bravely  as  the  vainest  Naza- 
rene  maiden,  that  boasts  her  descent  from  some  petty 
chieftain  of  the  rude  and  frozen  north ! " 

She  then  looked  towards  the  couch  of  the  wounded 
knight. 

"He  sleeps,"  she  said;  "nature  exhausted  by  suffer- 
ance and  the  waste  of  spirits,  his  wearied  frame 
embraces  the  first  moment  of  temporary  relaxation  to 
sink  into  slumber.  Alas !  is  it  a  crime  that  I  should 
look  upon  him,  when  it  may  be  for  the  last  time  ?  — 
When  yet  but  a  short  space,  and  those  fair  features  will 
be  no  longer  animated  by  the  bold  and  buoyant  spirit 
which  forsakes  them  not  even  in  sleep  !  —  When  the  nos- 
tril shall  be  distended,  the  mouth  agape,  the  eyes  fixed 
and  bloodshot;  and  when  the  proud  and  noble  knight 
may  be  trodden  on  by  the  lowest  caitiff  of  this  accursed 
castle,  yet  stir  not  when  the  heel  is  lifted  up  against 
him  !  And  my  father  !  —  oh,  my  father !  evil  is  it  with 
his  daughter,  when  his  grey  hairs  are  not  remembered 
because  of  the  golden  locks  of  youth !  —  What  know  I 
but  that  these  evils  are  the  messengers  of  Jehovah's 
wrath  to  the  unnatural  child  who  thinks  of  a  stranger's 
captivity  before  a  parent's  ?  who  forgets  the  desolation 
of  Judah,  and  looks  upon  the  comeliness  of  a  Gentile 
and  a  stranger  ?  —  But  I  will  tear  this  folly  from  my 
heart,  though   every  fibre  bleed  as  I   rend   it  away  ! " 

She  wrapped  herself  closely  in  her  veil,  and  sat  down 


IVANHOE.  307 

at  a  distance  from  the  couch  of  the  wounded  knight, 
with  her  back  turned  towards  it,  fortifying,  or  endeavour- 
ing to  fortify,  her  mind  not  only  against  the  impending 
evils  from  without,  but  also  against  those  treacherous 
feelings  which  assailed  her  from  within. 


CHAPTEE  XXX. 


Approach  the  chamber,  look  upon  his  bed, 

His  is  the  passing  of  no  peaceful  ghost, 

Which,  as  the  lark  arises  to  the  sky, 

'Mid  morning's  sweetest  breeze  and  softest  dew, 

Is  wing'd  to  heaven  by  good  men's  sighs  and  tears  ! 

Anselm  parts  otherwise. 

Old  Play. 

During  the  interval  of  quiet  which  followed  the  first 
success  of  the  besiegers,  while  the  one  party  was  prepar- 
ing to  pursue  their  advantage  and  the  other  to  strengthen 
their  means  of  defence,  the  Templar  and  De  Bracy  held 
brief  counsel  together  in  the  hall  of  the  castle. 

"  Where  is  Front-de-Bceuf  ?  "  said  the  latter,  who  had 
superintended  the  defence  of  the  fortress  on  the  other 
side ;  "  men  say  he  hath  been  slain." 

"  He  lives,"  said  the  Templar,  coolly  —  "  lives  as  yet ; 
but  had  he  worn  the  bull's  head  of  which  he  bears  the 
name,  and  ten  plates  of  iron  to  fence  it  withal,  he  must 
have  gone  down  before  yonder  fatal  axe.  Yet  a  few  hours, 
and  Front-de-Boeuf  is  with  his  fathers  —  a  powerful  limb 
lopped  off  Prince  John's  enterprise." 

"  And  a  brave  addition  to  the  kingdom  of  Satan,"  said 
De  Bracy ;  "  this  comes  of  reviling  saints  and  angels,  and 
ordering  images  of  holy  things  and  holy  men  to  be  flung 
down  on  the  heads  of  these  rascaille  yeomen." 

"  Go  to,  —  thou  art  a  fool,"  said  the  Templar ;  "  thy 
superstition  is  upon  a  level  with  Front-de-Bceuf's  want 
of  faith ;  neither  of  you  can  render  a  reason  for  your  be- 
lief or  unbelief." 

"  Benedicite,  Sir  Templar,"  replied  De  Bracy,  "  I  pray 
you  to  keep  better  rule  with  your  tongue  when.  I  am  the 


308  IVANHOE. 

theme  of  it.  By  the  Mother  of  Heaven,  I  am  a  better 
Christian  man  than  thou  and  thy  fellowship;  for  the 
bruit  goeth  shrewdly  out,  that  the  most  holy  order  of 
the  Temple  of  Zion  nurseth  not  a  few  heretics  within 
its  bosom,  and  that  Sir  Brian  de  Bois-G-uilbert  is  of  the 
number." 

"  Care  not  thou  for  such  reports,"  said  the  Templar ; 
"  but  let  us  think  of  making  good  the  castle.  —  How 
fought  these  villain  yeomen  on  thy  side  ?  " 

"  Like  fiends  incarnate,"  said  De  Bracy.  "They  swarmed 
close  up  to  the  walls,  headed,  as  I  thiuk,  by  the  knave 
who  won  the  prize  at  the  archery,  for  I  knew  his  horn  and 
baldric.  And  this  is  old  Fitzurse's  boasted  policy,  en- 
couraging these  malapert  knaves  to  rebel  against  us !  Had 
I  not  been  armed  in  proof,  the  villain  had  marked  me 
down  seven  times  with  as  little  remorse  as  if  I  had  been 
a  buck  in  season.  He  told  every  rivet  on  my  armour  with 
a  cloth-yard  shaft,  that  rapped  against  my  ribs  with  as 
little  compunction  as  if  my  bones  had  been  of  iron  —  but 
that  I  wore  a  shirt  of  Spanish  mail  under  my  plate-coat, 
I  had  been  fairly  sped." 

"But  you  maintained  your  post  ?"  said  the  Templar. 
"  We  lost  the  outwork  on  our  part." 

"  That  is  a  shrewd  loss,"  said  De  Bracy ;  "  the  knaves 
will  find  cover  there  to  assault  the  castle  more  closely, 
and  may,  if  not  well  watched,  gain  some  unguarded  corner 
of  a  tower,  or  some  forgotten  window,  and  so  break  in 
upon  us.  Our  numbers  are  too  few  for  the  defence  of 
every  point,  and  the  men  complain  that  they  can  nowhere 
show  themselves,  but  they  are  the  mark  for  as  many 
arrows  as  a  parish-butt  on  a  holyday  even.  Front-de- 
Boeuf  is  dying,  too,  so  we  shall  receive  no  more  aid  from 
his  bull's  head  and  brutal  strength.  How  think  you,  Sir 
Brian,  were  we  not  better  make  a  virtue  of  necessity, 
and  compound  with  the  rogues  by  delivering  up  our 
prisoners  ?  " 

"  How  ! "  exclaimed  the  Templar ;  "  deliver  up  our 
prisoners,  and  stand  an  object  alike  of  ridicule  and  exe- 
cration, as  the  doughty  warriors  who  dared  by  a  night- 
attack  to  possess  themselves  of  the  persons  of  a  party  of 


IVANHOE.  309 

defenceless  travellers,  yet  could  not  make  good  a  strong 
castle  against  a  vagabond  troop  of  outlaws,  led  by  swine- 
herds, jesters,  and  the  very  refuse  of  mankind?  —  Shame 
on  thy  counsel,  Maurice  de  Bracy !  —  The  ruins  of  this 
castle  shall  bury  both  my  body  and  my  shame,  ere  I  con- 
sent to  such  base  and  dishonourable  composition." 

"  Let  us  to  the  walls,  then,"  said  De  Bracy,  carelessly ; 
"  that  man  never  breathed,  be  he  Turk  or  Templar,  who 
held  life  at  higher  rate  than  I  do.  But  I  trust  there  is 
no  dishonour  in  wishing  I  had  here  some  two  scores  of 
my  gallant  troop  of  Free  Companions  !  —  Oh,  my  brave 
lances !  if  ye  knew  but  how  hard  your  captain  were  this 
day  bested,  how  soon  should  I  see  my  banner  at  the  head 
of  your  clump  of  spears  !  And  how  short  while  would 
these  rabble  villains  stand  to  endure  your  encounter  !  " 

"  Wish  for  whom  thou  wilt,"  said  the  Templar,  "but 
let  us  make  what  defence  we  can  with  the  soldiers  who 
remain.  They  are  chiefly  Front-de-Bceuf's  followers, 
hated  by  the  English  for  a  thousand  acts  of  insolence 
and  oppression." 

"  The  better,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  the  rugged  slaves  will 
defend  themselves  to  the  last  drop  of  their  blood,  ere 
thev  encounter  the  revenge  of  the  neasants  without.  Let 
us  up  and  be  doing,  then,  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert ;  and, 
live  or  die,  thou  shalt  see  Maurice  de  Bracy  bear  himself 
this  day  as  a  gentleman  of  blood  and  lineage." 

"  To  the  walls !  "  answered  the  Templar  ;  and  they 
both  ascended  the  battlements  to  do  all  that  skill  could 
dictate  and  manhood  accomplish,  in  defence  of  the 
place.  They  readily  agreed  that  the  point  of  greatest 
danger  was  that  opposite  to  the  outwork  of  which  the 
assailants  had  possessed  themselves.  The  castle,  indeed. 
was  divided  from  that  barbican  by  the  moat,  and  it  was 
impossible  that  the  besiegers  could  assail  the  postern 
door,  with  which  the  outwork  corresponded,  without  sur- 
mounting that  obstacle ;  but  it  was  the  opinion  both  of 
the  Templar  and  De  Bracy  that  the  besiegers,  if  governed 
by  the  same  policy  their  leader  had  already  displayed, 
would  endeavour,  by  a  formidable  assault,  to  draw  the 
chief  part  of  the  defenders'  observation  to  this  point,  and 


310  IVANHOE. 

take  measures  to  avail  themselves  of  every  negligence 
which  might  take  place  in  the  defence  elsewhere.  To 
guard  against  such  an  evil,  their  numbers  only  per- 
mitted the  knights  to  place  sentinels  from  space  to  space 
along  the  walls  in  communication  with  each  other,  who 
might  give  the  alarm  whenever  danger  was  threatened. 
Meanwhile,  they  agreed  that  De  Bracy  should  command 
the  defence  at  the  postern,  and  the  Templar  should  keep 
with  him  a  score  of  men  or  thereabouts  as  a  body  of  re- 
serve, ready  to  hasten  to  any  other  point  which  might  be 
suddenly  threatened.  The  loss  of  the  barbican  had  also 
this  unfortunate  effect,  that,  notwithstanding  the  superior 
height  of  the  castle  walls,  the  besieged  could  not  see  from 
them,  with  the  same  precision  as  before,  the  operations  of 
the  enemy ;  for  some  straggling  underwood  approached 
so  near  the  sallyport  of  the  outworks  that  the  assailants 
might  introduce  into  it  whatever  force  they  thought 
proper,  not  only  under  cover,  but  even  without  the  know- 
ledge of  the  defenders.  Utterly  uncertain,  therefore, 
upon  what  point  the  storm  was  to  burst,  De  Bracy  and 
his  companion  were  under  the  necessity  of  providing 
against  every  possible  contingency,  and  their  followers, 
however  brave,  experienced  the  anxious  dejection  of  mind 
incident  to  men  enclosed  by  enemies,  who  possessed  the 
power  of  choosing  their  time  and  mode  of  attack. 

Meanwhile,  the  lord  of  the  beleaguered  and  endangered 
castle  lay  upon  a  bed  of  bodily  pain  and  mental  agony. 
He  had  not  the  usual  resource  of  bigots  in  that  super- 
stitious period,  most  of  whom  were  wont  to  atone  for  the 
crimes  they  were  guilty  of,  by  liberality  to  the  Church, 
stupefying  by  this  means  their  terrors  by  the  idea  of 
atonement  and  forgiveness ;  and  although  the  refuge 
which  success  thus  purchased  was  no  more  like  to  the 
peace  of  mind  which  follows  on  sincere  repentance  than 
the  turbid  stupefaction  procured  by  opium  resembles 
healthy  and  natural  slumbers,  it  was  still  a  state  of  mind 
preferable  to  the  agonies  of  awakened  remorse.  But 
among  the  vices  of  Front-de-Boeuf,  a  hard  and  griping 
man,  avarice  was  predominant ;  and  he  preferred  setting 


IV  AN  HOE.  311 

church  and  churchmen  at  defiance,  to  purchasing  from 
them  pardon  and  absolution  at  the  price  of  treasure  and 
of  manors.  Nor  did  the  Templar,  an  infidel  of  another 
stamp,  justly  characterise  his  associate  when  he  said 
Front-de-Boeuf  could  assign  no  cause  for  his  unbelief  and 
contempt  for  the  established  faith ;  for  the  baron  would 
have  alleged  that  the  Church  sold  her  wares  too  dear, 
that  the  spiritual  freedom  which  she  put  up  to  sale  was 
only  to  be  bought,  like  that  of  the  chief  captain  of  Jeru- 
salem, "  witn  a  great  sum,"  and  Front-de-Boeuf  preferred 
denying  the  virtue  of  the  medicine  to  paying  the  expense 
of  the  physician. 

But  the  moment  had  now  arrived  when  earth  and  all 
his  treasures  were  gliding  from  before  his  eyes,  and  when 
the  savage  baron's  heart,  though  hard  as  a  nether  mill- 
stone, became  appalled  as  he  gazed  forward  into  the  waste 
darkness  of  futurity.  The  fever  of  his  body  aided  the 
impatience  and  agony  of  his  mind,  and  his  death-bed 
exhibited  a  mixture  of  the  newly  awakened  feelings  of 
horror  combating  with  the  fixed  and  inveterate  obstinacy 
of  his  disposition  —  a  fearful  state  of  mind,  only  to  be 
equalled  in  those  tremendous  regions  where  there  are 
complaints  without  hope,  remorse  without  repentance,  a 
dreadful  sense  of  present  agony,  and  a  presentiment  that 
it  cannot  cease  or  be  diminished ! 

"  Where  be  these  dog-priests  now,"  growled  the  baron, 
"who  set  such  price  on  their  ghostly  mummery?  — 
where  be  all  those  unshod  Carmelites,  for  whom  old 
Front-de-Boeuf  founded  the  convent  of  St.  Anne,  robbing 
his  heir  of  many  a  fair  rood  of  meadow,  and  many  a  fat 
field  and  close  —  where  be  the  greedy  hounds  now  ?  — 
Swilling,  I  warrant  me,  at  the  ale,  or  playing  their  jug- 
gling tricks  at  the  bedside  of  some  miserly  churl.  Me, 
the  heir  of  their  founder  —  me  whom  their  foundation 
binds  them  to  pray  for  —  me  —  ungrateful  villains  as  they 
are  !  —  they  suffer  to  die  like  the  houseless  dog  on  yonder 
common,  unshriven  and  unhouseled  !  Tell  the  Templar 
to  come  hither ;  he  is  a  priest,  and  may  do  something  — 
But  no !  as  well  confess  myself  to  the  devil  as  to  Brian 
de   Bois-Guilbert,  who  recks  neither  of   Heaven  nor  of 


312  IVANHOE. 

Hell. —  I  have  heard  old  men  talk  of  prayer  —  prayer  by 
their  own  voice  —  such  need  not  to  court  or  to  bribe  the 
false  priest.     But  I  —  I  dare  not ! " 

"Lives  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf,"  said  a  broken  and 
shrill  voice  close  by  his  bedside,  "  to  say  there  is  that 
which  he  dares  not  ?  " 

The  evil  conscience  and  the  shaken  nerves  of  Front-de- 
Boeuf  heard,  in  this  strange  interruption  to  his  soliloquy, 
the  voice  of  one  of  those  demons  who,  as  the  superstition 
of  the  times  believed,  beset  the  beds  of  dying  men,  to  dis- 
tract their  thoughts,  and  turn  them  from  the  meditations 
which  concerned  their  eternal  welfare.  He  shuddered 
and  drew  himself  together ;  but,  instantly  summoning  up 
his  wonted  resolution,  he  exclaimed,  "  Who  is  there  ?  — 
what  art  thou,  that  darest  to  echo  my  words  in  a  tone 
like  that  of  the  night  raven  ?  —  Come  before  my  couch 
that  I  may  see  thee." 

"  I  am  thine  evil  angel,  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf," 
replied  the  voice. 

"  Let  me  behold  thee,  then,  in  thy  bodily  shape,  if  thou 
be'st  indeed  a  fiend,"  replied  the  dying  knight ;  "  think 
not  that  I  will  blench  from  thee.  By  the  eternal  dungeon, 
could  1  but  grapple  with  these  horrors  that  hover  round 
me  as  I  have  done  with  mortal  dangers,  Heaven  or  Hell 
should  never  say  that  I  shrunk  from  the  conflict !  " 

"  Think  on  thy  sins,  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf,"  said 
the  almost  unearthly  voice  —  "  on  rebellion,  on  rapine,  on 
murder  !  Who  stirred  up  the  licentious  John  to  war 
against  his  grey-headed  father  —  against  his  generous 
brother  ?  " 

"Be  thou  fiend,  priest,  or  devil,"  replied  Front-de- 
Boeuf,  "  thou  liest  in  thy  throat !  —  Not  I  stirred  John 
to  rebellion  —  not  I  alone;  there  were  fifty  knights  and 
barons,  the  flower  of  the  midland  counties,  better  men 
never  laid  lance  in  rest  —  and  must  I  answer  for  the  fault 
done  by  fifty  ?  False  fiend,  I  defy  thee  !  Depart,  and 
haunt  my  couch  no  more  —  let  me  die  in  peace  if  thou 
be  mortal;  if  thou  be  a  demon,  thy  time  is  not  yet 
come." 

"  In   peace   thou  shalt  not  die,"  repeated  the  voice ; 


IVANHOE.  313 

"  even  in  death  shalt  thou  think  on  thy  murders  —  on 
the  groans  which  this  castle  has  echoed  —  on  the  blood 
that  is  ingrained  in  its  floors  ! " 

"  Thou  canst  not  shake  me  by  thy  petty  malice," 
answered  Front:de-Boeuf,  with  a  ghastly  and  constrained 
laugh.  "  The  infidel  Jew  —  it  was  merit  with  Heaven 
to  deal  with  him  as  I  did,  else  wherefore  are  men  canon- 
ised who  dip  their  hands  in  the  blood  of  the  Saracens  ?  — 
The  Saxon  porkers  whom  I  haveslain— they  were  the  foes 
of  my  country,  and  of  my  lineage,  and  of  my  liege  lord. 
Ho !  ho  !  thou  seest  there  is  no  crevice  in  my  coat  of 
plate.     Art  thou  fled  ?  art  thou  silenced  ?  " 

"  No,  foul  parricide  !  "  replied  the  voice ;  "  think  of  thy 
father  !  —  think  of  his  death  !  —  think  of  his  banquet- 
room  flooded  with  his  gore,  and  that  poured  forth  by  the 
hand  of  a  son  !  " 

"  Ha !  "  answered  the  Baron,  after  a  long  pause,  "  an 
thou  knowest  that,  thou  art  indeed  the  author  of  evil, 
and  as  omniscient  as  the  monks  call  thee !  That  secret 
I  deemed  locked  in  my  own  breast,  and  in  that  of  one 
besides  —  the  temptress,  the  partaker  of  my  guilt.  —  Go, 
leave  me,  fiend !  and  seek  the  Saxon  witch  Ulrica,  who 
alone  could  tell  thee  what  she  and  I  alone  witnessed.  —  Go, 
I  say,  to  her,  who  washed  the  wounds,  and  straightened 
the  corpse,  and  gave  to  the  slain  man  the  outward  show 
of  one  parted  in  time  and  in  the  course  of  nature.  Go 
to  her;  she  was  my  temptress,  the  foul  provoker,  the 
more  foul  rewarder,  of  the  deed  —  let  her,  as  well  as  I, 
taste  of  the  tortures  which  anticipate  Hell ! " 

"  She  already  tastes  them,"  said  Ulrica,  stepping  before 
the  couch  of  Front-de-Boeuf ;  "she  hath  long  drunken  of 
this  cup,  and  its  bitterness  is  now  sweetened  to  see  that 
thou  dost  partake  it.  Grind  not  thy  teeth,  Front-de- 
Boeuf —  roll  not  thine  eyes  —  clench  not  thy  hand,  nor 
shake  it  at  me  with  that  gesture  of  menace !  The  hand 
which,  like  that  of  thy  renowned  ancestor  who  gained 
thy  name,  could  have  broken  with  one  stroke  the  skull  of 
a  mountain-bull,  is  now  unnerved  and  powerless  as  mine 
own ! " 

"  Yile,  murderous  hag !  "  replied  Front-de-Boeuf,  "  de- 


314  IV AN  HOE. 

testable  screech-owl !  it  is  then  thou  who  art  come  to 
exult  over  the  ruins  thou  hast  assisted  to  lay  low  ?  " 

"Ay,  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf,"  answered  she,  "  it  is 
Ulrica !  —  it  is  the  daughter  of  the  murdered  Torquil 
Wolfganger !  —  it  is  the  sister  of  his  slaughtered  sons  ! 
—  it  is  she  who  demands  of  thee,  and  of  thy  father's 
house,  father  and  kindred,  name  and  fame  —  all  that  she 
has  lost  by  the  name  of  Front-de-Boeuf!  Think  of  my 
wrongs,  Front-de-Boeuf,  and  answer  me  if  I  speak  not 
truth.  Thou  hast  been  my  evil  angel,  and  I  will  be 
thine  —  I  will  dog  thee  till  the  very  instant  of  dissolution ! " 

"Detestable  fury!"  exclaimed  Front-de-Boeuf,  "that 
moment  shalt  thou  never  witness.  Ho !  Giles,  Clement, 
and  Eustace !  St.  Maur  and  Stephen !  seize  this  damned 
witch,  and  hurl  her  from  the  battlements  headlong  — 
she  has  betrayed  us  to  the  Saxon !  Ho !  St.  Maur ! 
Clement !  false-hearted  knaves,  where  tarry  ye  ?  " 

"  Call  on  them  again,  valiant  baron,"  said  the  hag,  with 
a  smile  of  grisly  mockery ;  "  summon  thy  vassals  around 
thee,  doom  them  that  loiter  to  the  scourge  and  the 
dungeon — but  know,  mighty  chief,"  she  continued, 
suddenly  changing  her  tone,  "thou  shalt  have  neither 
answer,  nor  aid,  nor  obedience  at  their  hands.  Listen  to 
these  horrid  sounds,"  for  the  din  of  the  recommenced 
assault  and  defence  now  rung  fearfully  loud  from  the 
battlements  of  the  castle;  "in  that  war-cry  is  the  down- 
fall of  thy  house.  The  .blood-cemented  fabric  of  Front- 
de-Boeuf's  power  totters  to  the  foundation,  and  before  the 
foes  he  most  despised !  The  Saxon,  Reginald  !  —  the 
scorned  Saxon  assails  thy  walls  !  —  Why  liest  thou  here, 
like  a  worn-out  hind,  when  the  Saxon  storms  thy  place 
of  strength  ?  " 

"  Gods  and  fiends  ! "  exclaimed  the  wounded  knight. 
"  Oh,  for  one  moment's  strength,  to  drag  myself  to  the 
melee,  and  perish  as  becomes  my  name !  " 

"  Think  not  of  it,  valiant  warrior !  "  replied  she  ;  "  thou 
shalt  die  no  soldier's  death,  but  perish  like  the  fox  in  his 
den,  when  the  peasants  have  set  fire  to  the  cover  around 
it." 

"  Hateful  hag !  thou  liest !  "  exclaimed  Front-de-Boeuf  ; 


IVANHOE.  315 


a 


my  followers  bear  them  bravely  —  my  walls  are  strong 
and  high  —  my  comrades  in  arms  fear  not  a  whole  host 
of  Saxons,  were  they  headed  by  Hengist  and  Horsa! 
—  The  war-cry  of  the  Templar  and  of  the  Free  Com- 
panions rises  high  over  the  conflict !  And  by  mine 
honour,  when  we  kindle  the  blazing  beacon  for  joy  of  our 
defence,  it  shall  consume  thee,  body  and  bones ;  and  I 
shall  live  to  hear  thou  art  gone  from  earthly  fires  to 
those  of  that  Hell  which  never  sent  forth  an  incarnate 
fiend  more  utterly  diabolical !  " 

"  Hold  thy  belief,"  replied  Ulrica,  "  till  the  proof  reach 
thee  —  But  no  !  "  she  said,  interrupting  herself,  "  thou 
shalt  know  even  now  the  doom  which  all  thy  power, 
strength,  and  courage  is  unable  to  avoid,  though  it  is 
prepared  for  thee  by  this  feeble  hand.  Markest  thou  the 
smouldering  and  suffocating  vapour  which  already  eddies 
in  sable  folds  through  the  chamber  ?  — Didst  thou  think 
it  was  but  the  darkening  of  thy  bursting  eyes,  the  diffi- 
culty of  thy  cumbered  breathing  ?  —  No  !  Front-de- 
Bceuf,  there  is  another  cause.  Remeinberest  thou  the 
magazine  of  fuel  that  is  stored  beneath  these  apart- 
ments ?  " 

"  Woman ! "  he  exclaimed  with  fury,  "  thou  hast  not  set 
fire  to  it  ?  —  By  Heaven,  thou  hast,  and  the  castle  is  in 
flames ! " 

"  They  are  fast  rising  at  least,"  said  Ulrica,  with 
frightful  composure ;  "  and  a  signal  shall  soon  wave  to 
warn  the  besiegers  to  press  hard  upon  those  who  would 
extinguish  them.  —  Farewell,  Front-de-Bceuf !  May  Mista, 
Skogula,  and  Zernebock,  gods  of  the  ancient  Saxons  — 
fiends,  as  the  priests  now  call  them  —  supply  the  place 
of  comforters  at  your  dying  bed,  which  Ulrica  now 
relinquishes !  But  know,  if  it  will  give  thee  comfort  to 
know  it,  that  Ulrica  is  bound  to  the  same  dark  coast  as 
thyself,  the  companion  of  thy  punishment  as  the  com- 
panion of  thy  guilt.  —  And  now,  parricide,  farewell  for 
ever !  May  each  stone  of  this  vaulted  roof  find  a  tongue 
to  echo  that  title  into  thine  ear  !  " 

So  saying,  she  left  the  apartment ;  and  Front-de-Bceuf 
could  hear  the  crash  of  the  ponderous  key  as  she  locked 


316  IVAN  HOE. 

and  double-] ockecl  the  door  behind  her,  thus  cutting  off 
the  most  slender  chance  of  escape.  In  the  extremity  of 
agony,  he  shouted  upon  his  servants  and  allies  :  "  Stephen 
and  St.  Maur !  Clement  and  Giles  !  I  burn  here  unaided  ! 
To  the  rescue  —  to  the  rescue,  brave  Bois-G-uilbert, 
valiant  De  Bracy  !  —  It  is  Front-de-Beeuf  who  calls  !  It  is 
your  master,  ye  traitor  squires !  Your  ally  —  your 
brother  in  arms,  ye  perjured  and  faithless  knights  !  —  all 
the  curses  due  to  traitors  upon  your  recreant  heads,  do 
you  abandon  me  to  perish  thus  miserably  !  They  hear  me 
not  —  they  cannot  hear  me  —  my  voice  is  lost  in  the  din 
cf  battle.  The  smoke  rolls  thicker  and  thicker,  —  the 
fire  has  caught  upon  the  floor  below.  Oh.  for  one  draught 
of  the  air  of  heaven,  were  it  to  be  purchased  by  instant 
annihilation  !  "  And  in  the  mad  frenzy  of  desp>air,  the 
wretch  now  shouted  with  the  shouts  of  the  fighters,  now 
muttered  curses  on  himself,  on  mankind,  and  on  Heaven 
itself.  —  "  The  red  fire  flashes  through  the  thick  smoke  !  " 
he  exclaimed ;  "  the  demon  marches  against  me  under  the 
banner  of  his  own  element.  Foul  spirit,  avoid !  —  I  go 
not  with  thee  without  my  comrades  —  all,  all  are  thine 
that  garrison  these  walls  —  Thinkest  thou  Front-de- 
Bceuf  will  be  singled  out  to  go  alone  ?  Xo  —  the  infidel 
Templar  —  the  licentious  De  Bracy  —  Ulrica,  the  foul, 
murdering  strumpet  —  the  men  who  aided  my  enter- 
prises —  the  dog  Saxons  and  accursed  Jews  who  are  my 
prisoners  —  all,  all  shall  attend  me  —  a  goodly  fellowship 
as  ever  took  the  downward  road.  Ha,  ha.  ha  !  "  and  he 
laughed  in  his  frenzy  till  the  vaulted  roof  rang  again. 
"  AVho  laughed  there  ? n  exclaimed  Front-de-Boeuf,  in 
altered  mood,  for  the  noise  of  the  conflict  did  not  prevent 
the  echoes  of  his  own  mad  laughter  from  returning  upon 
his  ear  —  "  who  laughed  there  ?  Ulrica,  was  it  thou  ?  — 
Speak,  witch,  and  I  forgive  thee  —  for  only  thou  or  the 
Fiend  of  Hell  himself  could   have  laughed  at   such   a 

moment.     Avaunt  —  avauut !  * " 

But  it  were  impious  to  trace  any  farther  the  picture  of 
the  blasphemer  and  parricide's  death-bed. 


ir.  r     e  317 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

1  s,  c  :\ce  more, 

.;.  ..    .     :    .- 

-  od  yeomei 

•            -  iii  1 ■"    . 

[".:■:  :.  -  .irt  —         :s  > 
That  yoa  are  vr 

King  H<:;\ry  F. 

:....''"     igfa       k  gi     -'  .  Ulrica's  no   s- 

-   _       mi tted  not  1  her  pi   mis    to  the] 

Knight  and  ]      ksl  pleas         >  find 

they  _..:.- 

moment  of  :..  nd 

■dily  agreed      I     I       S  thai    i  si    ran,  under  what 

fcages        -  h  I  I  tl        I  -  - ' 

means  3  rs  now 

b-de-1      .f. 
KTh  '.    f  Alfred  is    ttdangei 

nourof  a  noble  I        is  in]    riy  said  the  Bis 
Knighl 

St  Chris  aldri.      said  the 

rood  -    i  .an  tl.    - 

of  that  poor  faithful  ild  jeopard  a 

jowl  r  of  his  he.-.  I  - 

"Ands         dd  I,"  said  the  Friar;  "wJ        g    9!  Itj    si 
well  that  a  foci  —  1  mean,  -      me.  sirs,  a  fool  that 

is  free  of  his  gnil  I  an  I  d    sb  .  of  his  craJ  .  give 

is  h  and  flavour  to  a  cup  of  wir.      -    ver  a  flitch 
.vn  —  I  >  ..  -  ich  a  fool  shall  ne 

t     wise  >r  or  fight  for  him  at  a 

while  I  can  say  amass 

And  with  tl  /.eavyha  y.lay  around 

his  1.  -  ;erd  boy  flow  is     5  his     ghl  k. 

-1  -     1  the  1  a  ■■,".■-.         >  if 

St,  Dunstan  hi   -   If  had  sai  lit   —  A.d  now.  good  1 

aot  :  d  si  ss  ome  the 

direo: 

•  X   :  ■  jot  I."  returned  (  "I  have  never  been 


318  IVANHOE. 

wont  to  study  either  how  to  take  or  how  to  hold  out  those 
abodes  of  tyrannic  power  which  the  Normans  have  erected 
in  this  groaning  land.  I  will  fight  among  the  foremost ; 
but  my  honest  neighbours  well  know  I  am  not  a  trained 
soldier  in  the  discipline  of  wars  or  the  attack  of  strong- 
holds." 

"  Since  it  stands  thus  with  noble  Cedric,"  said  Locks- 
ley,  "  I  am  most  willing  to  take  on  me  the  direction  of 
the  archery ;  and  ye  shall  hang  me  up  on  my  own  try  sting- 
tree  an  the  defenders  be  permitted  to  show  themselves 
over  the  walls  without  being  stuck  with  as  many  shafts 
as  there  are  cloves  in  a  gammon  of  bacon  at  Christmas." 

"Well  said,  stout  yeoman,"  answered  the  Black  Knight; 
"  and  if  I  be  thought  worthy  to  have  a  charge  in  these 
matters,  and  can  find  among  these  brave  men  as  many  as 
are  willing  to  follow  a  true  English  knight,  for  so  I  may 
surely  call  myself,  I  am  ready,  with  such  skill  as  my 
experience  has  taught  me,  to  lead  them  to  the  attack  of 
these  walls." 

The  parts  being  thus  distributed  to  the  leaders,  they 
commenced  the  first  assault,  of  which  the  reader  has  al- 
ready heard  the  issue. 

When  the  barbican  was  carried,  the  Sable  Knight  sent 
notice  of  the  happy  event  to  Locksley,  requesting  him  at 
the  same  time  to  keep  such  a  strict  observation  on  the 
castle  as  might  prevent  the  defenders  from  combining 
their  force  for  a  sudden  sally,  and  recovering  the  outwork 
which  they  had  lost.  This  the  knight  was  chiefly  desirous 
of  avoiding,  conscious  that  the  men  whom  he  led,  being 
hasty  and  untrained  volunteers,  imperfectly  armed  and 
unaccustomed  to  discipline,  must,  upon  any  sudden  attack, 
fight  at  great  disadvantage  with  the  veteran  soldiers  of 
the  Norman  knights,  who  were  well  provided  with  arms 
both  defensive  and  offensive ;  and  who,  to  match  the  zeal 
and  high  spirit  of  the  besiegers,  had  all  the  confidence 
which  arises  from  perfect  discipline  and  the  habitual  use 
of  weapons. 

The  knight  employed  the  interval  in  causing  to  be  con- 
structed a  sort  of  floating  bridge,  or  long  raft,  by  means 
of  which  he  hoped  to  cross  the  moat  in  despite  of  the  re- 


IVANHOE.  319 

sistance  of  the  enemy.  This  was  the  work  of  some  time, 
which  the  leaders  the  less  regretted,  as  it  gave  Ulrica 
leisure  to  execute  her  plan  of  diversion  in  their  favour, 
whatever  that  might  be. 

When  the  raft  was  completed,  the  Black  Knight  ad- 
dressed the  besiegers  :  "  It  avails  not  waiting  here  longer, 
my  friends ;  the  sun  is  descending  to  the  west  —  and  I 
have  that  upon  my  hands  which  will  not  permit  me  to 
tarry  with  you  another  day.  Besides,  it  will  be  a  marvel 
if  the  horsemen  come  not  upon  us  from  York,  unless  we 
speedily  accomplish  our  purpose.  Wherefore,  one  of  ye 
go  to  Lock  si  ey,  and  bid  him  commence  a  discharge  of 
arrows  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  castle,  and  move  for- 
ward as  if  about  to  assault  it;  and  you,  true  English 
hearts,  stand  by  me.  and  be  ready  to  thrust  the  raft  end- 
long over  the  moat  whenever  the  postern  on  our  side  is 
thrown  open.  Follow  me  boldly  across,  and  aid  me  to 
burst  yon  sallyport  in  the  main  wall  of  the  castle.  As 
many  of  you  as  like  not  this  service,  or  are  but  ill  armed 
to  meet  it,  do  you  man  the  top  of  the  outwork,  draw  your 
bowstrings  to  your  ears,  and  mind  you  quell  with  your 
shot  whatever  shall  appear  to  man  the  rampart.  Noble 
Cedric,  wilt  thou  take  the  direction  of  those  which 
remain  ?  " 

"  Not  so,  by  the  soul  of  Here  ward  !  "  said  the  Saxon  ; 
"  lead  I  cannot ;  but  may  posterity  curse  me  in  my  grave, 
if  I  follow  not  with  the  foremost  wherever  thou  shalt 
point  the  way.  The  quarrel  is  mine,  and  well  it  becomes 
me  to  be  in  the  van  of  the  battle." 

"  Yet,  bethink  thee,  noble  Saxon,"  said  the  knight. 
"  thou  hast  neither  hauberk,  nor  corselet,  nor  aught  but 
that  light  helmet,  target,  and  sword." 

"  The  better ! "  answered  Cedric ;  "  I  shall  be  the  lighter 
to  climb  these  walls.  And  —  forgive  the  boast,  Sir  Knight 
—  thou  shalt  this  day  see  the  naked  breast  of  a  Saxon  as 
boldly  presented  to  the  battle  as  ever  ye  beheld  the  steel 
corselet  of  a  Norman." 

"  In  the  name  of  God,  then."  said  the  knight,  "  fling 
open  the  door,  and  launch  the  floating  bridge." 

The  portal,  which  led  from  the  inner  wall  of  the  bar- 


320  IVANHOE. 

bican  to  the  moat,  and  which  corresponded  with  a  sally- 
port in  the  main  wall  of  the  castle,  was  now  suddenly 
opened;  the  temporary  bridge  was  then  thrust  forward, 
and  soon  flashed  in  the  waters,  extending  its  length 
between  the  castle  and  outwork,  and  forming  a  slippery 
and  precarious  passage  for  two  men  abreast  to  cross  the 
moat.  Well  aware  of  the  importance  of  taking  the  foe 
by  surprise,  the  Black  Knight,  closely  followed  by  Cedric, 
threw  himself  upon  the  bridge,  and  reached  the  opposite 
side.  Here  he  began  to  thunder  with  his  axe  upon  the 
gate  of  the  castle,  protected  in  part  from  the  shot  and 
stones  cast  by  the  defenders  by  the  ruins  of  the  former 
drawbridge,  which  the  Templar  had  demolished  in  his 
retreat  from  the  barbican,  leaving  the  counterpoise  still 
attached  to  the  upper  part  of  the  portal.  The  followers 
of  the  knight  had  no  such  shelter ;  two  were  instantly 
shot  with  cross-bow  bolts,  and  two  more  fell  into  the 
moat ;  the  others  retreated  back  into  the  barbican. 

The  situation  of  Cedric  and  of  the  Black  Knight  was 
now  truly  dangerous,  and  would  have  been  still  more  so 
but  for  the  constancy  of  the  archers  in  the  barbican,  who 
ceased  not  to  shower  their  arrows  upon  the  battlements, 
distracting  the  attention  of  those  by  whom  they  were 
manned,  and  thus  affording  a  respite  to  their  two  chiefs 
from  the  storm  of  missiles  which  must  otherwise  have 
overwhelmed  them.  But  their  situation  was  eminently 
perilous,  and  was  becoming  more  so  with  every  moment. 

"  Shame  on  ye  all ! "  cried  De  Bracy  to  the  soldiers 
around  him ;  "  do  ye  call  yourselves  cross-bowmen,  and 
let  these  two  dogs  keep  their  station  under  the  walls  of 
the  castle  ?  —  Heave  over  the  coping  stones  from  the 
battlement,  an  better  may  not  be  —  Get  pickaxe  and 
levers,  and  down  with  the  huge  pinnacle ! "  pointing  to  a 
heavy  piece  of  stone  carved-work  that  projected  from  the 
parapet. 

At  this  moment  the  besiegers  caught  sight  of  the  red 
flag  upon  the  angle  of  the  tower  which  Ulrica  had  de- 
scribed to  Cedric.  The  stout  yeoman  Locksley  was  the 
first  who  was  aware  of  it,  as  he  was  hasting  to  the  out- 
work, impatient  to  see  the  progress  of  the  assault. 


IVANHOE.  321 

"  St.  George ! "  he  cried  —  "  Merry  St.  George  for  Eng- 
land !  —  To  the  charge,  bold  yeomen !  why  leave  ye  the 
good  knight  and  noble  Cedric  to  storm  the  pass  alone  ?  — 
Make  in,  mad  priest,  show  thon  canst  tight  for  thy  rosary 
—  make  in,  brave  yeomen!  —  the  castle  is  ours,  we  have 
friends  within  —  See  yonder  flag,  it  is  the  appointed 
signal  —  Torquilstone  is  ours  !  Think  of  honour  —  think 
of  spoil !     One  effort,  and  the  place  is  ours  !  " 

With  that  he  bent  his  good  bow,  and  sent  a  shaft  right 
through  the  breast  of  one  of  the  men-at-arms,  who,  under 
De  Bracy's  direction,  was  loosening  a  fragment  from  one 
of  the  battlements  to  precipitate  on  the  heads  of  Cedric 
and  the  Black  Knight.  A  second  soldier  caught  from 
the  hands  of  the  dying  man  the  iron  crow  with  which  he 
heaved  at  and  had  loosened  the  stone  pinnacle,  when,  re- 
ceiving an  arrow  through  his  head-piece,  he  dropped  from 
the  battlements  into  the  moat  a  dead  man.  The  men-at- 
arms  were  daunted,  for  no  armour  seemed  proof  against 
the  shot  of  this  tremendous  archer. 

"  Do  you  give  ground,  base  knaves ! "  said  De  Bracy ; 
"  Mount  joye  St.  Denis  !  Give  me  the  lever ! " 

And,  snatching  it  up,  he  again  assailed  the  loosened 
pinnacle,  which  was  of  weight  enough,  if  thrown  down, 
not  only  to  have  destroyed  the  remnant  of  the  drawbridge 
which  sheltered  the  two  foremost  assailants,  but  also  to 
have  sunk  the  rude  float  of  planks  over  which  they  had 
crossed.  All  saw  the  danger,  and  the  boldest,  even  the 
stout  Friar  himself,  avoided  setting  foot  on  the  raft. 
Thrice  did  Locksley  bend  his  shaft  against  De  Bracy,  and 
thrice  did  his  arrow  bound  back  from  the  knight's  armour 
of  proof. 

"Curse  on  thy  Spanish  steel-coat!"  said  Locksley, 
"had  English  smith  forged  it,  these  arrows  had  gone 
through,  an  as  if  it  had  been  silk  or  sendal."  He  then 
began  to  call  out,  "  Comrades !  friends !  noble  Cedric !  bear 
back  and  let  the  ruin  fall." 

His  warning  voice  was  unheard,  for  the  din  which  the 
knight  himself  occasioned  by  his  strokes  upon  the  postern 
would  have  drowned  twenty  war  trumpets.  The  faithful 
Gurth  indeed  sprung  forward  on  the  planked  bridge,  to 


322  IVANHOE. 

warn  Cedric  of  his  impending  fate,  or  to  share  it  with 
him.  But  his  warning  would  have  come  too  late;  the 
massive  pinnacle  already  tottered,  and  De  Bracy,  who 
still  heaved  at  his  task,  would  have  accomplished  it,  had 
not  the  voice  of  the  Templar  sounded  close  in  his  ear : 

"  All  is  lost,  De  Bracy ;  the  castle  burns." 

"  Thou  art  mad  to  say  so ! "  replied  the  knight. 

"  It  is  all  in  a  light  flame  on  the  western  side.  I  have 
striven  in  vain  to  extinguish  it." 

With  the  stern  coolness  which  formed  the  basis  of  his 
character,  Brian  de  Bois-G-uilbert  communicated  this  hide- 
ous intelligence,  which  was  not  so  calmly  received  by  his 
astonished  comrade. 

"  Saints  of  Paradise ! "  said  De  Bracy ;  "  what  is  to  be 
done  ?  I  vow  to  St.  Nicholas  of  Limoges  a  candlestick  of 
pure  gold " 

"Spare  thy  vow,"  said  the  Templar,  "and  mark  me. 
Lead  thy  men  down,  as  if  to  a  sally;  throw  the  postern 
gate  open — There  are  but  two  men  who  occupy  the  float, 
fling  them  into  the  moat,  and  push  across  for  the  barbican. 
I  will  charge  from  the  main  gate,  and  attack  the  barbican 
on  the  outside ;  and  if  we  can  regain  that  post,  be  assured 
we  shall  defend  ourselves  until  we  are  relieved,  or  at  least 
till  they  grant  us  fair  quarter." 

"  It  is  well  thought  upon,"  said  De  Bracy ;  "  I  will  play 
my  part.     Templar,  thou  wilt  not  fail  me  ?" 

"  Hand  and  glove,  I  will  not ! "  said  Bois-Guilbert. 
"  But  haste  thee,  in  the  name  of  God ! " 

De  Bracy  hastily  drew  his  men  together,  and  rushed 
down  to  the  postern  gate,  which  he  caused  instantly  to  be 
thrown  open.  But  scarce  was  this  done  ere  the  portentous 
strength  of  the  Black  Knight  forced  his  way  inward  in 
despite  of  De  Bracy  and  his  followers.  Two  of  the  fore- 
most instantly  fell,  and  the  rest  gave  way  notwithstanding 
all  their  leader's  efforts  to  stop  them. 

"  Dogs ! "  said  De  Bracy,  "  will  ye  let  two  men  win  our 
only  pass  for  safety  ?  " 

"  He  is  the  devil ! "  said  a  veteran  man-at-arms,  bearing 
back  from  the  blows  of  their  sable  antagonist. 

"  And  if  he  be  the  devil,"  replied  De  Bracy,  "  would 


IVANHOE.  323 

you  fly  from  him  into  the  mouth  of  Hell  ?  —  the  castle 
burns  behind  us  villains  !  —  let  despair  give  you  courage, 
or  let  me  forward !  I  will  cope  with  this  champion 
myself." 

And  well  and  chivalrous  did  De  Bracy  that  day  main- 
tain the  fame  he  had  acquired  in  the  civil  wars  of  that 
dreadful  period.  The  vaulted  passage  to  which  the 
postern  gave  entrance,  and  in  which  these  two  redoubted 
champions  were  now  fighting  hand  to  hand,  rung  with  the 
furious  blows  which  they  dealt  each  other,  De  Bracy  with 
his  sword,  the  Black  Knight  with  his  ponderous  axe.  At 
length  the  Norman  received  a  blow  which,  though  its  force 
was  partly  parried  by  his  shield,  for  otherwise  never  more 
would  De  Bracy  have  again  moved  limb,  descended  yet 
with  such  violence  on  his  crest  that  he  measured  his 
length  on  the  paved  floor. 

"  Yield  thee,  De  Bracy,"  said  the  Black  Champion, 
stooping  over  him,  and  holding  against  the  bars  of  his 
helmet  the  fatal  poniard  with  which  the  knights  dis- 
patched their  enemies,  (and  which  was  called  the  dagger 
of  mercy)  —  "yield  thee,  Maurice  de  Bracy,  rescue  or  no 
rescue,  or  thou  art  but  a  dead  man." 

"I  will  not  yield,"  replied  De  Bracy,  faintly,  "to  an 
unknown  conqueror.  Tell  me  thy  name,  or  work  thy 
pleasure  on  me  —  it  shall  never  be  said  that  Maurice  de 
Bracy  was  prisoner  to  a  nameless  churl." 

The  Black  Knight  whispered  something  into  the  ear  of 
the  vanquished. 

"  I  yield  me  to  be  true  prisoner,  rescue  or  no  rescue," 
answered  the  Norman,  exchanging  his  tone  of  stern  and 
determined  obstinacy  for  one  of  deep  though  sullen  sub- 
mission. 

"Go  to  the  barbican,"  said  the  victor,  in  a  tone  of 
authority,  "  and  there  wait  my  further  orders." 

"  Yet  first  let  me  say,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  what  it  imports 
thee  to  know.  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe  is  wounded  and  a 
prisoner,  and  will  perish  in  the  burning  castle  without 
present  help." 

"Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe  !  "  exclaimed  the  Black  Knight  — 
H prisoner,  and  perish!      The  life  of  every  man  in  the 


324  IVANHOE. 

castle  shall  answer  it  if  a  hair  of  his  head  be  singed  — 
Show  me  his  chamber  !  " 

"  Ascend  yonder  winding  stair,"  said  De  Bracy ;  "  it 
leads  to  his  apartment.  Wilt  thou  not  accept  my  guid- 
ance ?  "  he  added,  in  a  submissive  voice. 

"  No.  To  the  barbican,  and  there  wait  my  orders.  I 
trust  thee  not,  De  Bracy." 

During  this  combat  and  the  brief  conversation  which 
ensued,  Cedric,  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  men,  among 
whom  the  Friar  was  conspicuous,  had  pushed  across  the 
bridge  as  soon  as  they  saw  the  postern  open,  and  drove 
back  the  dispirited  and  despairing  followers  of  De  Bracy, 
of  whom  some  asked  quarter,  some  offered  vain  resistance, 
and  the  greater  part  fled  towards  the  courtyard.  De 
Bracy  himself  arose  from  the  ground,  and  cast  a  sorrow- 
ful glance  after  his  conqueror.  "  He  trusts  me  not ! "  he 
repeated ;  "  but  have  I  deserved  his  trust  ?  "  He  then 
lifted  his  sword  from  the  floor,  took  off  his  helmet  in 
token  of  submission,  and,  going  to  the  barbican,  gave  up 
his  sword  to  Locksley,  whom  he  met  by  the  way. 

As  the  fire  augmented,  symptoms  of  it  became  soon 
apparent  in  the  chamber  where  Ivanhoe  was  watched  and 
tended  by  the  Jewess  Rebecca.  He  had  been  awakened 
from  his  brief  slumber  by  the  noise  of  the  battle ;  and 
his  attendant,  who  had,  at  his  anxious  desire,  again  placed 
herself  at  the  window  tq  watch  and  report  to  him  the 
fate  of  the  attack,  was  for  some  time  prevented  from 
observing  either,  by  the  increase  of  the  smouldering  and 
stifling  vapour,  At  length  the  volumes  of  smoke  which 
rolled  into  the  apartment,  the  cries  for  water,  which  were 
heard  even  above  the  din  of  the  battle,  made  them  sen- 
sible of  the  progress  of  this  new  danger. 

"  The  castle  burns,"  said  Rebecca,  "  it  burns  !  What 
can  we  do  to  save  ourselves  ?  " 

"  Fly,  Rebecca,  and  save  thine  own  life,"  said  Ivanhoe, 
"for  no  human  aid  can  avail  me." 
.  "  I  will  not  fly,"  answered  Rebecca ;  "  we  will  be  saved 
or  perish  together.     And  yet,  great  God !  my  father  — 
my  father,  what  will  be  his  fate  ?  " 


IVANHOE.  325 

At  this  moment  the  door  of  the  apartment  flew  open, 
and  the  Templar  presented  himself  —  a  ghastly  figure, 
for  his  gilded  armour  was  broken  and  bloody,  and  the 
plume  was  partly  shorn  away,  partly  burnt  from  his 
casque.  "  I  have  found  thee,"  said  he  to  Rebecca ; 
"  thou  shalt  prove  I  will  keep  my  word  to  share  weal 
and  woe  with  thee.  There  is  but  one  path  to  safety ; 
I  have  cut  my  way  through  fifty  dangers  to  point  it  to 
thee  —  up,  and  instantly  follow  me  !  " 

"  Alone,"  answered  Eebecca,  "  I  will  not  follow  thee. 
If  thou  wert  born  of  woman  —  if  thou  hast  but  a  touch 
of  human  charity  in  thee  —  if  thy  heart  be  not  hard 
as  thy  breastplate  —  save  my  aged  father  —  save  this 
wounded  knight ! " 

"  A  knight,"  answered  the  Templar,  with  his  charac- 
teristic calmness  —  "a  knight,  Rebecca,  must  encounter 
his  fate,  whether  it  meet  him  in  the  shape  of  sword  or 
flame ;  and  who  recks  how  or  where  a  Jew  meets  with 
his  ?  " 

"  Savage  warrior,"  said  Rebecca,  "  rather  will  I  perish 
in  the  flames  than  accept  safety  from  thee ! " 

"  Thou  shalt  not  choose,  Rebecca ;  once  didst  thou  foil 
me,  but  never  mortal  did  so  twice." 

So  saying,  he  seized  on  the  terrified  maiden,  who  filled 
the  air  with  her  shrieks,  and  bore  her  out  of  the  room 
in  his  arms,  in  spite  of  her  cries,  and  without  regarding 
the  menaces  and  defiance  which  Ivanhoe  thundered 
against  him.  "  Hound  of  the  Temple  —  stain  to  thine 
Order  —  set  free  the  damsel !  Traitor  of  Bois-Guilbert, 
it  is  Ivanhoe  commands  thee  !  —  villain,  I  will  have  thy 
heart's  blood ! " 

"I  had  not  found  thee,  Wilfred,"  said  the  Black 
Knight,  who  at  that  instant  entered  the  apartment,  "  but 
for  thy  shouts." 

"If  thou  be'st  true  knight,"  said  Wilfred,  "think 
not  of  me  —  pursue  yon  ravisher  —  save  the  Lady  Row- 
ena  —  look  to  the  noble  Cedric !  " 

"  In  their  turn,"  answered  he  of  the  Fetterlock,  "  but 
thine  is  first." 

And  seizing  upon  Ivanhoe,  he  bore  him  off  with  as 


326  I  VAN  HOE. 

much  ease  as  the  Templar  had  carried  o;ff  Rebecca, 
rushed  with  him  to  the  postern,  and  having  there  de- 
livered his  burden  to  the  care  of  two  yeomen,  he  again 
entered  the  castle  to  assist  in  the  rescue  of  the  other 
prisoners. 

One  turret  was  now  in  bright  flames,  which  flashed 
out  furiously  from  window  and  shot-hole.  But  in  other 
parts  the  great  thickness  of  the  walls  and  the  vaulted 
roofs  of  the  apartments  resisted  the  progress  of  the 
flames,  and  there  the  rage  of  man  still  triumphed,  as 
the  scarce  more  dreadful  element  held  mastery  else- 
where; for  the  besiegers  pursued  the  defenders  of  the 
castle  from  chamber  to  chamber,  and  satiated  in  their 
blood  the  vengeance  which  had  long  animated  them 
against  the  soldiers  of  the  tyrant  Front-de-Bceuf.  Most 
of  the  garrison  resisted  to  the  uttermost  —  few  of  them 
asked  quarter  —  none  received  it.  The  air  was  filled 
with  groans  and  clashing  of  arms  —  the  floors  were 
slippery  with  the  blood  of  despairing  and  expiring 
wretches. 

Through  this  scene  of  confusion,  Cedric  rushed  in 
quest  of  Rowena,  while  the  faithful  Gurth,  following 
him  closely  through  the  melee,  neglected  his  own  safety 
while  he  strove  to  avert  the  blows  that  were  aimed  at 
his  master.  The  noble  Saxon  was  so  fortunate  as  to 
reach  his  ward's  apartment  just  as  she  had  abandoned 
all  hope  of  safety,  and,  wjth  a  crucifix  clasped  in  agony 
to  her  bosom,  sat  in  expectation  of  instant  death.  He 
committed  her  to  the  charge  of  Gurth,  to  be  conducted 
in  safety  to  the  barbican,  the  road  to  which  was  now 
cleared  of  the  enemy,  and  not  yet  interrupted  by  the 
flames.  This  accomplished,  the  loyal  Cedric  hastened 
in  quest  of  his  friend  Athelstane,  determined,  at  every 
risk  to  himself,  to  save  that  last  scion  of  Saxon  royalty. 
But  ere  Cedric  penetrated  as  far  as  the  old  hall  in  which 
he  had  himself  been  a  prisoner,  the  inventive  genius  of 
Wamba  had  procured  liberation  for  himself  and  his 
companion  in  adversity. 

When  the  noise  of  the  conflict  announced  that  it  was 
at  the   hottest,   the   Jester    began   to   shout,   with   the 


IVANHOE.  327 

utmost  power  of  his  lungs,  "  St.  George  and  the  dragon  ! 
—  bonny  St.  George  for  merry  England  —  the  castle  is 
won !  "  And  these  sounds  he  rendered  yet  more  fearful 
by  banging  against  each  other  two  or  three  pieces  of 
rusty  armour  which  lay  scattered  around  the  hall. 

A  guard,  which  had  been  stationed  in  the  outer  or 
ante-room,  and  whose  spirits  were  already  in  a  state  of 
alarm,  took  fright  at  Wamba's  clamour,  and  leaving  the 
door  open  behind  them,  ran  to  tell  the  Templar  that 
foemen  had  entered  the  old  hall.  Meantime  the  pris- 
oners found  no  difficulty  in  making  their  escape  into  the 
ante-room,  and  from  thence  into  the  court  of  the  castle, 
which  was  now  the  last  scene  of  contest.  Here  sat  the 
fierce  Templar,  mounted  on  horseback,  surrounded  by 
several  of  the  garrison  both  on  horse  and  foot,  who  had 
united  their  strength  to  that  of  this  renowned  leader,  in 
order  to  secure  the  last  chance  of  safety  and  retreat 
wrhich  remained  to  them.  The  drawbridge  had  been 
lowered  by  his  orders,  but  the  passage  was  beset;  for 
the  archers,  who  had  hitherto  only  annoyed  the  castle 
on  that  side  by  their  missiles,  no  sooner  saw  the  flames 
breaking  out,  and  the  bridge  lowered,  than  they  thronged 
to  the  entrance,  as  well  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the 
garrison  as  to  secure  their  own  share  of  booty  ere  the 
castle  should  be  burnt  down.  On  the  other  hand,  a  party 
of  the  besiegers,  who  had  entered  by  the  postern,were  now 
issuing  out  into  the  courtyard,  and  attacking  with  fury 
the  remnant  of  the  defenders,  who  were  thus  assaulted 
on  both  sides  at  once. 

Animated,  however,  by  despair,  and  supported  by  the 
example  of  their  indomitable  leader,  the  remaining 
soldiers  of  the  castle  fought  with  the  utmost  valour ; 
and,  being  well  armed,  succeeded  more  than  once  in 
driving  back  the  assailants,'  though  much  inferior  in 
numbers.  Rebecca,  placed  on  horseback  before  one  of 
the  Templar's  Saracen  slaves,  was  in  the  midst  of  the 
little  party ;  and  Bois-Guilbert,  notwithstanding  the  con- 
fusion of  the  bloody  fray,  showed  every  attention  to  her 
safety.  Repeatedly  he  was  by  her  side,  and  neglecting 
his  own  defence,  held  before  her  the  fence  of  his  tri- 


328  IVANHOE. 

angular  steel-plated  shield ;  and  anon  starting  from  his 
position  by  her,  he  cried  his  war-cry,  dashed  forward, 
struck  to  earth  the  most  forward  of  the  assailants, 
and  was  on  the  same  instant  once  more  at  her  bridle 
rein. 

Athelstane,  who,  as  the  reader  knows,  was  slothful, 
but  not  cowardly,  beheld  the  female  form  whom  the 
Templar  protected  thus  sedulously,  and  doubted  not  that 
it  was  Rowena  whom  the  knight  was  carrying  off,  in 
despite  of  all  resistance  which  could  be  offered. 

"  By  the  soul  of  St.  Edward,"  he  said,  "  I  will  rescue 
her  from  yonder  over-proud  knight,  and  he  shall  die  by 
my  hand ! " 

"  Think  what  you  do !  "  cried  Wamba ;  "  hasty  hand 
catches  frog  for  fish  —  by  my  bauble,  yonder  is  none  of 
my  Lady  Rowena,  —  see  but  her  long  dark  locks  !  Nay,  an 
ye  will  not  know  black  from  white,  ye  may  be  leader, 
but  I  will  be  no  follower  —  no  bones  of  mine  shall  be 
broken  unless  I  know  for  whom.  And  you  without 
armour  too !  —  bethink  you,  silk  bonnet  never  kept  out 
steel  blade. —  Nay,  then,  if  wilful  will  to  water,  wilful 
must  drench.  Deus  vobiscum,  most  doughty  Athelstane ! " 
he  concluded,  loosening  the  hold  which  he  had  hitherto 
kept  upon  the  Saxon's  tunic. 

To  snatch  a  mace  from  the  pavement,  on  which  it  lay 
beside  one  whose  dying  grasp  had  just  relinquished  it, 
to  rush  on  the  Templar's  band,  and  to  strike  in  quick 
succession  to  the  right  and  left,  levelling  a  warrior  at 
each  blow,  was,  for  Athelstane's  great  strength,  now 
animated  with  unusual  fury,  but  the  work  of  a  single 
moment ;  he  was  soon  within  two  yards  of  Bois-Guilbert, 
whom  he  defied  in  his  loudest  tone. 

"  Turn,  false-hearted  Templar !  let  go  her  whom  thou 
art  unworthy  to  touch  —  turn,  limb  of  a  band  of  murder- 
ing and  hypocritical  robbers  !  " 

"  Dog ! "  said  the  Templar,  grinding  his  teeth,  "  I  will 
teach  thee  to  blaspheme  the  holy  order  of  the  Temple 
of  Zion";  and  with  these' words,  half-wheeling  his  steedr 
he  made  a  demi-courbette  towards  the  Saxon,  and  rising 
in  the  stirrups,  so  as  to  take  full  advantage  of  the  descent 


*?e  J'^arSe^   d  Jarful  U 


<^£jT5>nrt^ 


IVANHOE.  329 

of  the  horse,  he  discharged  a  fearful  blow  upon  the  head 
of  Athelstane. 

Well  said  Wamba,  that  silken  bonnet  keeps  out 
no  steel  blade!  So  trenchant  was  the  Templar's 
weapon,  that  it  shore  asunder,  as  it  had  been  a  willow 
twig,  the  tough  and  plated  handle  of  the  mace  which 
the  ill-fated  Saxon  reared  to  parry  the  blow,  and,  de- 
scending on  his  head,  levelled  him  with  the  earth. 

"  Ha  I  Beau-seant  I "  exclaimed  Bois-Guilbert,  "  thus 
be  it  to  the  maligners  of  the  Temple  knights  !  "  Taking 
advantage  of  the  dismay  which  was  spread  by  the  fall  of 
Athelstane,  and  calling  aloud,  "  Those  who  would  save 
themselves,  follow  me ! "  he  pushed  across  the  draw- 
bridge, dispersing  the  archers  who  would  have  intercepted 
them.  He  was  followed  by  his  Saracens,  and  some  five 
or  six  men-at-arms,  who  had  mounted  their  horses.  The 
Templar's  retreat  was  rendered  perilous  by  the  numbers 
of  arrows  shot  off  at  him  and  his  party ;  but  this  did 
not  prevent  him  from  galloping  round  to  the  barbican, 
of  which,  according  to  his  previous  plan,  he  supposed  it 
possible  De  Bracy  might  have  been  in  possession. 

"  De  Bracy  !  De  Bracy  !  "  he  shouted,  "  art  thou  there  ?  " 

"  I  am  here,"  replied  De  Bracy,  "  but  I  am  a  prisoner." 

"  Can  I  rescue  thee  ?  "  cried  Bois-G-uilbert. 

"  No,"  replied  De  Bracy ;  "  I  have  rendered  me,  rescue 
or  no  rescue.  I  will  be  true  prisoner.  Save  thyself  — 
there  are  hawks  abroad  —  put  the  seas  betwixt  you  and 
England :  I  dare  not  say  more." 

"  Well,  "  answered  the  Templar,  "  an  thou  wilt  tarry 
there,  remember  I  have  redeemed  word  and  glove.  Be 
the  hawks  where  they  will,  methinks  the  walls  of  the 
Preceptory  of  Templestowe  will  be  cover  sufficient,  and 
thither  will  I,  like  heron  to  her  haunt." 

Having  thus  spoken,  he  galloped  off  with  his  followers. 

Those  of  the  castle  who  had  not  gotten  to  horse,  still 
continued  to  fight  desperately  with  the  besiegers,  after 
the  departure  of  the  Templar,  but  rather  in  despair  of 
quarter  than  that  they  entertained  any  hope  of  escape. 
The  fire  was  spreading  rapidly  through  all  parts  of  the 
castle,  when  Ulrica,  who  had  first  kindled  it,  appeared 


330  IVANHOE. 

on  a  turret,  in  the  guise  of  one  of  the  ancient  furies, 
yelling  forth  a  war-song,  such  as  was  of  yore  raised  on 
the  field  of  battle  by  the  scalds  of  the  yet  heathen  Saxons. 
Her  long,  dishevelled  grey  hair  flew  back  from  her  un- 
covered head;  the  inebriating  delight  of  gratified  ven- 
geance contended  in  her  eyes  with  the  fire  of  insanity ; 
and  she  brandished  the  distaff  which  she  held  in  her 
hand,  as  if  she  had  been  one  of  the  Fatal  Sisters  who 
spin  and  abridge  the  thread  of  human  life.  Tradition 
has  preserved  some  wild  strophes  of  the  barbarous  hymn 
which  she  chanted  wildly  amid  that  scene  of  fire  and 
of  slaughter : 

Whet  the  bright  steel, 

Sons  of  the  White  Dragon  ! 

Kindle  the  torch, 

Daughter  of  Hengist ! 

The  steel  glimmers  not  for  the  carving  of  the  banquet, 

It  is  hard,  broad,  and  sharply  pointed  ; 

The  torch  goeth  not  to  the  bridal  chamber, 

It  steams  and  glitters  blue  with  sulphur. 

Whet  the  steel,  the  raven  croaks  ! 

Light  the  torch,  Zernebock  is  yelling  ! 

Whet  the  steel,  sons  of  the  Dragon  ! 

Kindle  the  torch,  daughter  of  Hengist ! 

The  black  cloud  is  low  over  the  thane's  castle ; 

The  eagle  screams  —  he  rides  on  its  bosom. 

Scream  not,  grey  rider  of  the  sable  cloud, 

Thy  banquet  is  prepared  ! 

The  maidens  of  Valhalla  look  forth, 

The  race  of  Hengist  will  send  them  guests. 

Shake  your  black  tresses,  maidens  of  Valhalla  ! 

And  strike  your  loud  timbrels  for  joy  ! 

Many  a  haughty  step  bends  to  your  halls, 

Many  a  helmed  head. 

Dark  sits  the  evening  upon  the  thane's  castle, 

The  black  clouds  gather  round  ; 

Soon  shall  they  be  red  as  the  blood  of  the  valiant ! 

The  destroyer  of  forests  shall  shake  his  red  crest  against  them. 

He,  the  bright  consumer  of  palaces, 

Broad  waves  he  his  blazing  banner ; 

Red,  wide,  and  dusky, 

Over  the  strife  of  the  valiant : 

His  joy  is  in  the  clashing  swords  and  broken  bucklers  ; 

He  loves  to  lick  the  hissing  blood  as  it  bursts  warm  from  the  wound  / 


IVANHOE.  331 

All  must  perish  ! 

The  sword  cleaveth  the  helmet ; 

The  strong  armour  is  pierced  by  the  lance ; 

Fire  devoureth  the  dwelling  of  princes  ; 

Engines  break  down  the  fences  of  the  battle. 

All  must  perish  ! 

The  race  of  Hengist  is  gone  — 

The  name  of  Horsa  is  no  more  ! 

Shrink  not  then  from  your  doom,  sons  of  the  sword  ! 

Let  your  blades  drink  blood  like  wine  ; 

Feast  ye  in  the  banquet  of  slaughter, 

By  the  light  of  the  blazing  halls  ! 

Strong  be  your  swords  while  your  blood  is  warm, 

And  spare  neither  for  pity  nor  fear, 

For  vengeance  hath  but  an  hour  ; 

Strong  hate  itself  shall  expire  ! 

I  also  must  perish  ! 

The  towering  flames  had  now  surmounted  every  ob- 
struction, and  rose  to  the  evening  skies  one  huge  and 
burning  \  eacon,  seen  far  and  wide  through  the  adjacent 
country.  Tower  after  tower  crashed  down,  with  blazing 
roof  and  rafter;  and  the  combatants  were  driven  from 
the  courtyard.  The  vanquished,  of  whom  very  few  re- 
mained, scattered  and  escaped  into  the  neighbouring  wood. 
The  victors,  assembling  in  large  bands,  gazed  with  won- 
der, not  unmixed  with  fear,  upon  the  flames,  in  which 
their  own  ranks  and  arms  glanced  dusky  red.  The  ma- 
niac figure  of  the  Saxon  Ulrica  was  for  a  long  time  visi- 
ble on  the  lofty  stand  she  had  chosen,  tossing  her  arms 
abroad  with  wild  exultation,  as  if  she  reigned  empress 
of  the  conflagration  which  she  had  raised.  At  length, 
with  a  terrific  crash,  the  whole  turret  gave  way,  and  she 
perished  in  the  flames  which  had  consumed  her  tyrant. 
An  awful  pause  of  horror  silenced  each  murmur  of  the 
armed  spectators,  who,  for  the  space  of  several  minutes, 
stirred  not  a  finger,  save  to  sign  the  cross.  The  voice  of 
Locksley  was  then  heard :  "  Shout,  yeomen !  the  den  of 
tyrants  is  no  more !  Let  each  bring  his  spoil  to  our 
chosen  place  of  rendezvous  at  the  trysting-tree  in  the 
Harthill  Walk ;  for  there  at  break  of  day  will  we  make 
just  partition  among  our  own  bands,  together  with  our 
worthy  allies  in  this  great  deed  of  vengeance." 


332  IVANHOE. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Trust  me,  each  state  must  have  its  policies  : 
Kingdoms  have  edicts,  cities  have  their  charters ; 
Even  the  wild  outlaw,  in  his  forest- walk, 
Keeps  yet  some  touch  of  civil  discipline ; 
For  not  since  Adam  wore  his  verdant  apron, 
Hath  man  with  man  in  social  union  dwelt, 
But  laws  were  made  to  draw  that  union  closer. 

Old  Play. 

The  daylight  had  dawned  upon  the  glades  of  the  oak 
forest.  The  green  boughs  glittered  with  all  their  pearls 
of  dew.  The  hind  led  her  fawn  from  the  covert  of  high 
fern  to  the  more  open  walks  of  the  greenwood,  and  no 
huntsman  was  there  to  watch  or  intercept  the  stately 
hart,  as  he  paced  at  the  head  of  the  antlered  h^rd. 

The  outlaws  were  all  assembled  around  the  trysting- 
tree  in  the  Harthill  Walk,  where  they  had  spent  the 
night  in  refreshing  themselves  after  the  fatigues  of  the 
siege — some  with  wine,  some  with  slumber,  many  with 
hearing  and  recounting  the  events  of  the  day,  and  com- 
puting the  heaps  of  plunder  which  their  success  had 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  their  chief. 

The  spoils  were  indeed  very  large ;  for,  notwithstand- 
ing that  much  was  consumed,  a  great  deal  of  plate,  rich 
armour,  and  splendid  clothing  had  been  secured  by  the 
exertions  of  the  dauntless  outlaws,  who  could  be 
appalled  by  no  danger  when  such  rewards  were  in  view. 
Yet  so  strict  were  the  laws  of  their  society,  that  no  one 
ventured  to  appropriate  any  part  of  the  booty,  which 
was  brought  into  one  common  mass,  to  be  at  the  disposal 
of  their  leader. 

The  place  of  rendezvous  was  an  aged  oak ;  not,  how- 
ever, the  same  to  which  Locksley  had  conducted  Gurth 
and  Wamba  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  story,  but  one 
which  was  the  centre  of  a  silvan  amphitheatre,  within 
half  a  mile  of  the  demolished  castle  of  Torquilstone. 
Here  Locksley  assumed  his  seat  —  a  throne  of  turf 
erected  under  the  twisted  branches  of  the  huge  oak,  and 


IVANHOE.  333 

the  silvan  followers  were  gathered  around  him.  He 
assigned  to  the  Black  Knight  a  seat  at  his  right  hand, 
and  to  Cedric  a  place  upon  his  left. 

"Pardon  my  freedom,  noble  sirs,"  he  said,  "but  in 
these  glades  I  am  monarch  —  they  are  my  kingdom  ;  and 
these  my  wild  subjects  would  reck  but  little  of  my  power, 
were  I,  within  my  own  dominions,  to  yield  place  to  mor- 
tal man.  Now,  sirs,  who  hath  seen  our  chaplain  ?  where 
is  our  curtal  Friar  ?  A  mass  amongst  Christian  men  best- 
begins  a  busy  morning."  No  one  had  seen  the  Clerk  of 
Copmanhurst.  "Over  God's  forbode!"  said  the  outlaw 
chief,  "I  trust  the  jolly  priest  hath  but  abidden  by  the 
wine-pot  a  thought  too  late.  Who  saw  him  since  the 
castle  was  ta'en  ?" 

"  I,"  quoth  the  Miller,  "  marked  him  busy  about  the 
door  of  a  cellar,  swearing  by  each  saint  in  the  calendar 
he  would  taste  the  smack  of  Front-de-Bceuf's  Gascoigne 
wine." 

"  Now,  the  saints,  as  many  as  there  be  of  them,"  said 
the  captain,  "  forefend,  lest  he  has  drunk  too  deep  of  the 
wine-butts,  and  perished  by  the  fall  of  the  castle !  — 
Away,  Miller !  —  take  with  you  enow  of  men,  seek  the 
place  where  you  last  saw  him — throw  water  from  the 
moat  on  the  scorching  ruins;  I  will  have  them  removed 
stone  by  stone  ere  I  lose  my  curtal  Friar." 

The  numbers  who  hastened  to  execute  this  duty,  con- 
sidering that  an  interesting  division  of  spoil  was  about  to 
take  place,  showed  how  much  the  troop  had  at  heart  the 
safety  of  their  spiritual  father. 

"Meanwhile,  let  us  proceed,"  said  Locksley:  "for  when 
this  bold  deed  shall  be  sounded  abroad,  the  bands  of  De 
Bracy,  of  Malvoisin,  and  other  allies  of  Front-de-Bceuf, 
will  be  in  motion  against  us,  and  it  were  well  for  our 
safety  that  we  retreat  from  the  vicinity.  Noble  Cedric," 
he  said,  turning  to  the  Saxon,  "  that  spoil  is  divided  into 
two  portions;  do  thou  make  choice  of  that  which  best 
suits  thee,  to  recompense  thy  people  who  were  partakers 
with  us  in  this  adventure." 

"  Good  yeoman,"  said  Cedric,  "  my  heart  is  oppressed 
with  sadness.      The  noble  Athelstane  of  Coningsburgh  is 


A^V^ 


334  IVANHOE. 

no  more  —  the  last  sprout  of  the  sainted  Confessor ! 
Hopes  have  perished  with  him  which  can  never  return  ! 

—  A  sparkle  hath  been  quenched  by  his  blood  which  no 
human  breath  can  again  rekindle  !  My  people,  save  the 
few  who  are  now  with  me,  do  but  tarry  my  presence  to 
transport  his  honoured  remains  to  their  last  mansion.  The 
Lady  Rowena  is  desirous  to  return  to  Rotherwood,  and 
must  be  escorted  by  a  sufficient  force.  I  should,  there- 
fore, ere  now  have  left  this  place ;  and  I  waited,  not  to 
share  the  booty,  for,  so  help  me  God  and  St.  Withold !  as 
neither  I  nor  any  of  mine  will  touch  the  value  of  a  Hard 

—  I  waited  but  to  render  my  thanks  to  thee  and  to  thy 
bold  yeomen,  for  the  life  and  honour  ye  have  saved." 

"Nay,  but,"  said  the  chief  outlaw,  "we  did  but  half 
the  work  at  most — take  of  the  spoil  what  may  reward  your 
own  neighbours  and  followers." 

"  I  am  rich  enough  to  reward  them  from  mine  own 
wealth,"  answered  Cedric. 

"And  some,"  said  Wamba,  "have  been  wise  enough  to 
reward  themselves  ;  they  do  not  march  off  empty-handed 
altogether.     We  do  not  all  wear  motley." 

"They  are  welcome,"  said  Locksley;  "our  laws  bind 
none  but  ourselves." 

"  But  thou,  my  poor  knave,"  said  Cedric,  turning  about 
and  embracing  his  Jester,  "  how  shall  I  reward  thee,  who 
feared  not  to  give  thy  body  to  chains  and  death  instead  of 
mine  ?    All  forsook  me,  when  the  poor  fool  was  faithful ! " 

A  tear  stood  in  the  eye  of  the  rough  thane  as  he  spoke 

—  a  mark  of  feeling  which  even  the  death  of  Athelstane 
had  not  extracted;  but  there  was  something  in  the  half- 
instinctive  attachment  of  his  clown  that  waked  his  nature 
more  keenly  than  even  grief  itself. 

"  Nay,"  said  the  Jester,  extricating  himself  from  his 
master's  caress,  "  if  you  pay  my  service  with  ih.e  water 
of  your  eye,  the  Jester  must  weep  for  company,  and  then 
what  becomes  of  his  vocation  ?  —  But,  uncle,  if  you  would 
indeed  pleasure  me,  I  pray  you  to  pardon  my  playfellow 
Gurth,  who  stole  a  week  from  your  service  to  bestow  it 
on  your  son." 

"  Pardon  him ! "  exclaimed  Cedric ;  "  I  will  both  pardon 


IVAXHOE.  335 

and  reward  him.  Kneel  down,  Gurth." — The  swineherd 
was  in  an  instant  at  his  masters  feet. — "  Theow  and 
Esxe  art  thou  no  longer,"  said  Cedric,  touching  him  with 
a  wand ;  "  Folkfree  and  Sacless  art  thou  in  town  and 
from  town,  in  the  forest  as  in  the  field.  A  hide  of  land 
I  give  to  thee  in  my  steads  of  Walbrugham,  from  me  and 
mine  to  thee  and  thine  aye  and  for  ever;  and  God's 
malison  en  his  head  who  this  gainsa}7s !  " 

No  longer  a  serf  but  a  freeman  and  a  landholder,  Gurth 
sprung  upon  his  feet,  and  twice  bounded  aloft  to  almost 
his  own  height  from  the  ground. 

"  A  smith  and  a  file,"  he  cried,  "  to  do  away  the  collar 
from  the  neck  of  a  freeman !  —  Noble  master !  doubled 
is  my  strength  by  your  gift,  and  doubly  will  I  fight  for 
you !  —  There  is  a  free  spirit  in  my  breast.  I  am  a  man 
changed  to  myself  and  all  around.  Ha,  Fangs  !  "  he  con- 
tinued,—  for  that  faithful  cur,  seeing  his  master  thus 
transported,  began  to  jump  upon  him  to  express  his  sym- 
pathy, —  "knowest  thou  thy  master  still  ?  " 

"Ay,"  said  Wamba,  "Fangs  and  I  still  know  thee, 
Gurth,  though  we  must  needs  abide  by  the  collar ;  it  is 
only  thou  art  likely  to  forget  both  us  and  thyself." 

"I  shall  forget  myself  indeed  ere  I  forget  thee,  true 
comrade,"  said  Gurth ;  "  and  were  freedom  fit  for  thee 
Wamba,  the  master  would  not  let  thee  want  it." 

"  Nay,"  said  Wamba,  "  never  think  I  envy  thee,  brother 
Gurth;  the  serf  sits  by  the  hall  fire  when  the  freeman 
must  forth  to  the  field  of  battle.  And  what  saith  Aid- 
helm  of  Malmsbury  — {  Better  a  fool  at  a  feast  than  a 
wise  man  at  a  fray.'  " 

The  tramp  of  horses  was  now  heard,  and  the  Lady 
Rowena  appeared,  surrounded  by  several  riders,  and  a 
much  stronger  party  of  footmen,  who  joyfully  shook  their 
pikes  and  clashed  their  brown-bills  for  joy  of  her  freedom. 
She  herself,  richly  attired,  and  mounted  on  a  dark  chest- 
nut palfrey,  had  recovered  all  the  dignity  of  her  manner, 
and  only  an  unwonted  degree  of  paleness  showed  the 
sufferings  she  had  undergone.  Her  lovely  brow,  though 
sorrowful,  bore  on  it  a  cast  of  reviving  hope  for  the 
future,  as  well  as  a  grateful  thankfulness  for  the  past 


336  IVANHOE. 

deliverance.  She  knew  that  Ivanhoe  was  safe,  and  she 
knew  that  Athelstane  was  dead.  The  former  assurance 
rilled  her  with  the  most  sincere  delight ;  and  if  she  did 
not  absolutely  rejoice  at  the  latter,  she  might  be  pardoned 
for  feeling  the  full  advantage  of  being  freed  from  further 
persecution  on  the  only  subject  in  which  she  had  ever 
been  contradicted  by  her  guardian  Cedric. 

As  Rowena  bent  her  steed  towards  Locksley' s  seat,  that 
bold  yeoman,  with  all  his  followers,  rose  to  receive  her, 
as  if  by  a  general  instinct  of  courtes}?".  The  blood  rose 
to  her  cheeks  as,  courteously  waving  her  hand,  and  bend- 
ing so  low  that  her  beautiful  and  loose  tresses  were  for 
an  instant  mixed  with  the  flowing  mane  of  her  palfrey, 
she  expressed  in  few  but  apt  words  her  obligations  and 
her  gratitude  to  Locksley  and  her  other  deliverers.  "  God 
bless  you,  brave  men,"  she  concluded  —  "God  and  Our 
Lady  bless  you  and  requite  you  for  gallantly  perilling 
yourselves  in  the  cause  of  the  oppressed !  If  any  of  you 
should  hunger,  remember  Eowena  has  food  —  if  you 
should  thirst,  she  has  many  a  butt  of  wine  and  brown 
ale  —  and  if  the  Normans  drive  ye  from  these  walks, 
Rowena  has  forests  of  her  own,  where  her  gallant  deliv- 
erers may  range  at  full  freedom,  and  never  ranger  ask 
whose  arrow  hath  struck  down  the  deer." 

"Thanks,  gentle  lady,"  said  Locksley  —  "thanks  from 
my  company  and  myself.  But  to  have  saved  you  re- 
quites itself.  We  who  walk  the  greenwood  do  many  a 
wild  deed,  and  the  Lady  Rowena' s  deliverance  may  be 
received  as  an  atonement." 

Again  bowing  from  her  palfrey,  Rowena  turned  to 
depart ;  but  pausing  a  moment,  while  Cedric,  who  was 
to  attend  her,  was  also  taking  his  leave,  she  found  herself 
unexpectedly  close  by  the  prisoner  De  Bracy.  He  stood 
under  a  tree  in  deep  meditation,  his  arms  crossed  upon 
his  breast,  and  Rowena  was  in  hopes  she  might  pass  him 
unobserved.  He  looked  up,  however,  and,  when  aware 
of  her  presence,  a  deep  flush  of  shame  suffused  his  hand- 
some countenance.  He  stood  a  moment  most  irresolute ; 
then,  stepping  forward,  took  her  palfrey  by  the  rein  and 
bent  his  knee  before  her. 


IVANHOE.  337 

"  Will  the  Lady  Rowena  deign  to  cast  an  eye  on  a  cap- 
tive knight  —  on  a  dishonoured  soldier  ?  " 

"Sir  Knight,"  answered  Rowena,  "in  enterprises  such 
as  yours,  the  real  dishonour  lies  not  in  failure,  but  in 
success." 

"  Conquest,  lady,  should  soften  the  heart,"  answered 
De  Bracy ;  "  Let  me  but  know  that  the  Lady  Rowena 
forgives  the  violence  occasioned  by  an  ill-fated  passion, 
and  she  shall  soon  learn  that  De  Bracy  knows  how  to 
serve  her  in  nobler  ways." 

"  I  forgive  you,  Sir  Knight,"  said  Rowena,  "  as  a 
Christian." 

"That  means,"  said  Wamba,  "that  she  does  not  for- 
give him  at  all." 

"  But  I  can  never  forgive  the  misery  and  desolation 
your  madness  has  occasioned,"  continued  Rowena. 

"Unloose  your  hold  on  the  lady's  rein,"  said  Cedric, 
coming  up.  "  By  the  bright  sun  above  us,  but  it  were 
shame,  I  would  pin  thee  to  the  earth  with  my  javelin; 
but  be  well  assured,  thou  shalt  smart,  Maurice  de  Bracy, 
for  thy  share  in  this  foul  deed." 

"  He  threatens  safely  who  threatens  a  prisoner,"  said 
De  Bracy ;  "  but  when  had  a  Saxon  any  touch  of  cour- 
tesy ?  " 

Then  retiring  two  steps  backward,  he  permitted  the 
lady  to  move  on. 

Cedric,  ere  they  departed,  expressed  his  peculiar  grati- 
tude to  the  Black  Champion,  and  earnestly  entreated  him 
to  accompany  him  to  Rotherwood. 

"  I  know,"  he  said,  "  that  ye  errant  knights  desire  to 
carry  your  fortunes  on  the  point  of  your  lance,  and  reck 
not  of  land  or  goods ;  but  war  is  a  changeful  mistress, 
and  a  home  is  sometimes  desirable  even  to  the  champion 
whose  trade  is  wandering.  Thou  hast  earned  one  in  the 
halls  of  Rotherwood,  noble  knight.  Cedric  has  wealth 
enough  to  repair  the  injuries  of  fortune,  and  all  he  has 
is  his  deliverer's.  Come,  therefore,  to  Rotherwood,  not  as 
a  guest,  but  as  a  son  or  brother." 

"Cedric  has  already  made  me  rich,"  said  the  Knight: 
"he   has   taught   me   the   value   of   Saxon   virtue.      To 


338  IVANHOE. 

Rotherwood  will  I  conie,  brave  Saxon,  and  that  speedily, 
but,  as  now,  pressing  matters  of  moment  detain  me  from 
your  halls.  Peradventure,  when  I  come  hither,  I  will 
ask  such  a  boon  as  will  put  even  thy  generosity  to  the 
test." 

"It  is  granted  ere  spoken  out,"  said  Cedric,  striking 
his  ready  hand  into  the  gauntleted  palm  of  the  Black 
Knight  —  "  it  is  granted  already,  were  it  to  affect  half 
my  fortune." 

"  Gage  not  thy  promise  so  lightly,"  said  the  Knight  of 
the  Fetterlock ;  "  yet  well  I  hope  to  gain  the  boon  I  shall 
ask.     Meanwhile,  adieu." 

"I  have  but  to  say,"  added  the  Saxon,  "that,  during 
the  funeral  rites  of  the  noble  Athelstane,  I  shall  be  an 
inhabitant  of  the  halls  of  his  castle  of  Coningsburgh  — 
They  will  be  open  to  all  who  choose  to  partake  of  tire 
funeral  banqueting;  and  —  I  speak  in  name  of  the  noble 
Edith,  mother  of  the  fallen  prince  —  they  will  never  be 
shut  against  him  who  laboured  so  bravely,  though  unsuc- 
cessfully, to  save  Athelstane  from  Norman  chains  and 
Norman  steel." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  said  Wamba,  who  had  resumed  his  attend- 
ance on  his  master,  "rare  feeding  there  will  be  —  pity 
that  the  noble  Athelstane  cannot  banquet  at  his  own 
funeral.  But  he,"  continued  the  Jester,  lifting  up  his 
eyes  gravely,  "  is  supping  in  Paradise,  and  doubtless  does 
honour  to  the  cheer." 

"Peace,  and  move  on,"  said  Cedric,  his  anger  at  this 
untimely  jest  being  checked  by  the  recollection  of  Wam- 
ba's  recent  services.  Rowena  waved  a  graceful  adieu  to 
him  of  the  Fetterlock,  the  Saxon  bade  God  speed  him, 
and  on  they  moved  through  a  wide  glade  of  the  forest. 

They  had  scarce  departed,  ere  a  sudden  procession 
moved  from  under  the  greenwood  branches,  swept  slowly 
round  the  silvan  amphitheatre,  and  took  the  same  direc- 
tion with  Rowena  and  her  followers.  The  priests  of  a 
neighbouring  convent,  in  expectation  of  the  ample  dona- 
tion, or  "  soul-scat,"  which  Cedric  had  propined,  attended 
upon  the  car  in  which  the  body  of  Athelstane  was  laid, 
and  sang  hymns  as  it  was  sadly  and  slowly  borne  on  the 


IVANHOE.  339 

shoulders  of  his  vassals  to  his  castle  of  Coningsburgh,  to 
be  there  deposited  in  the  grave  of  Hengist,  from  whom 
the  deceased  derived  his  long  descent.  Many  of  his  vas- 
sals had  assembled  at  the  news  of  his  death,  and  followed 
the  bier  with  all  the  external  marks,  at  least,  of  dejection 
and  sorrow.  Again  the  outlaws  arose,  and  paid  the  same 
rude  and  spontaneous  homage  to  death  which  they  had 
so  lately  rendered  to  beauty ;  the  slow  chant  and  mourn- 
ful step  of  the  priests  brought  back  to  their  remembrance 
such  of  their  comrades  as  had  fallen  in  the  yesterday's 
affray.  But  such  recollections  dwell  not  long  with  those 
who  lead  a  life  of  danger  and  enterprise,  and  ere  the 
sound  of  the  death  hymn  had  died  on  the  wind,  the  out- 
laws were  again  busied  in  the  distribution  of  their  spoil. 

"Valiant  knight,"  said  Locksley  to  the  Black  Cham- 
pion, "  without  whose  good  heart  and  mighty  arm  our 
enterprise  must  altogether  have  failed,  will  it  please  you 
to  take  from  that  mass  of  spoil  whatever  may  best  serve 
to  pleasure  you,  and  to  remind  you  of  this  my  Try  sting- 
tree  ?  " 

"  I  accept  the  offer,"  said  the  Knight,  "  as  frankly  as 
it  is  given ;  and  I  ask  permission  to  dispose  of  Sir  Maurice 
de  Bracy  at  my  own  pleasure." 

"  He  is  thine  already,"  said  Locksley,  "  and  well  for 
him !  else  the  tyrant  had  graced  the  highest  bough  of  this 
oak,  with  as  many  of  his  Free  Companions  as  we  could 
gather,  hanging  thick  as  acorns  around  him.  —  But  he  is 
thy  prisoner,  and  he  is  safe,  though  he  had  slain  my 
father."  . 

"  De  Bracy,"  said  the  Knight,  "  thou  art  free  —  depart.  "" 
He  whose  prisoner  thou  art  scorns  to  take  mean  revenge 
for  what  is  past.     But  beware  of  the  future,  lest  a  worse 
thing  befall  thee.  —  Maurice  de  Bracy,  I  say  beware  !  " 

De  Bracy  bowed  low  and  in  silence,  and  was  about  to 
withdraw,  when  the  yeomen  burst  at  once  into  a  shout  of 
execration  and  derision.  The  proud  knight  instantly 
Stopped,  turned  back,  folded  his  arms,  drew  up  his  form 
to  its  full  height,  and  exclaimed,  "  Peace,  ye  yelping  curs ! 
who  open  upon  a  cry  which  ye  followed  not  when  the 
stag  was  at  bay  —  De  Bracy  scorns  your  censure  as  he 


340  IVANHOE. 

■would  disdain  your  applause.  To  your  brakes  and 
caves,  ye  outlawed  thieves !  and  be  silent  when  aught 
knightly  or  noble  is  but  spoken  within  a  league  of  your 
fox-earths." 

This  ill-timed  defiance  might  have  procured  for  De 
Bracy  a  volley  of  arrows,  but  for  the  hasty  and  impera- 
tive interference  of  the  outlaw  Chief.  Meanwhile,  the 
knight  caught  a  horse  by  the  rein,  for  several  which  had 
been  taken  in  the  stables  of  Front-de-Bceuf  stood  accou- 
tred around,  and  were  a  valuable  part  of  the  booty.  He 
threw  himself  upon  the  saddle,  and  galloped  off  through 
the  wood. 

When  the  bustle  occasioned  by  this  incident  was  some- 
what composed,  the  chief  outlaw  took  from  his  neck  the 
rich  horn  and  baldric  which  he  had  recently  gained  at 
the  strife  of  archery  near  Ashby. 

"  Noble  knight,"  he  said  to  him  of  the  Fetterlock,  "  if 
you  disdain  not  to  grace  by  your  acceptance  a  bugle 
which  an  English  yeoman  has  once  worn,  this  I  will  pray 
you  to  keep  as  a  memorial  of  your  gallant  bearing;  and 
if  ye  have  aught  to  do,  and,  as  happeneth  oft  to  a  gallant 
knight,  ye  chance  to  be  hard  bested  in  any  forest  between 
Trent  and  Tees,  wind  three  mots  upon  the  horn  thus,  Wa- 
sa-hoa!  and  it  may  well  chance  ye  shall  find  helpers  and 
rescue." 

He  then  gave  breath  to  the  bugle,  and  winded  once 
and  again  the  call  which  he  described,  until  the  Knight 
had  caught  the  notes. 

"  Gramercy    for    the    gift,    bold    yeoman,"    said    the 

Knight;  "and  better  help  than  thine  and  thy  rangers' 

would  I  never  seek,  were  it  at  my  utmost  need."     And 

then  in  his  turn  he  winded  the  call  till  all  the  srreenwood 


£>J 


rang. 


"  Well  blown  and  clearly,"  said  the  yeoman ;  "  beshrewr 
me  an  thou  knowest  not  as  much  of  woodcraft  as  of  war ! 
Thou  hast  been  a  striker  of  deer  in  thy  day,  I  warrant.  — 
Comrades,  mark  these  three  mots  —  it  is  the  call  of  the 
Knight  of  the  Fetterlock  ;  and  he  who  hears  it,  and  hastens 
not  to  serve  him  at  his  need,  I  will  have  him  scourged  out 
of  our  band  with  his  own  bowstring." 


IVANHOE.  341 

"Long  live  our  leader!"  shouted  the  yeomen,  "and 
long  live  the  Black  Knight  of  the  Fetterlock !  May  he 
soon  use  our  service  to  prove  how  readily  it  will  be  paid." 

Locksley  now  proceeded  to  the  distribution  of  the  spoil, 
which  he  performed  with  the  most  laudable  impartiality. 
A  tenth  part  of  the  whole  was  set  apart  for  the  church 
and  for  pious  uses;  a  portion  was  next  allotted  to  a  sort 
of  public  treasury;  a  part  was  assigned  to  the  widows 
and  children  of  those  who  had  fallen,  or  to  be  expended 
in  masses  for  the  souls  of  such  as  had  left  no  surviving 
family.  The  rest  was  divided  amongst  the  outlaws,  ac- 
cording to  their  rank  and  merit ;  and  the  judgment  of  the 
chief,  on  all  such  doubtful  questions  as  occurred,  was  de-^-j 
livered  with  great  shrewdness,  and  received  with  absolute 
submission.  The  Black  Knight  was  not  a  little  surprised 
to  find  that  men  in  a  state  so  lawless  were  nevertheless 
among  themselves  so  regularly  and  equitably  governed, 
and  all  that  he  observed  added  to  his  opinion  of  the  jus- 
tice and  judgment  of  their  leader. 

When  each  had  taken  his  own  proportion  of  the  booty, 
and  while  the  treasurer,  accompanied  by  four  tall  yeo- 
men, was  transporting  that  belonging  to  the  state  to  some 
place  of  concealment  or  of  security,  the  portion  devoted 
to  the  church  still  remained  unappropriated. 

"  I  would,"  said  the  leader,  "  we  could  hear  tidings  of 
our  joyous  chaplain  —  he  was  never  wont  to  be  absent 
when  meat  was  to  be  blessed,  or  spoil  to  be  parted ;  and 
it  is  his  duty  to  take  care  of  these  the  tithes  of  our  suc- 
cessful enterprise.  It  may  be  the  office  has  helped  to 
cover  some  of  his  canonical  irregularities.  Also,  I  have 
a  holy  brother  of  his  a  prisoner  at  no  great  distance,  and 
I  would  fain  have  the  Friar  to  help  me  to  deal  with  him 
in  due  sort.  —  I  greatly  misdoubt  the  safety  of  the  bluff 
priest." 

"  I  were  right  sorry  for  that,"  said  the  Knight  of  the 
Fetterlock,  "  for  I  stand  indebted  to  him  for  the  joyous 
hospitality  of  a  merry  night  in  his  cell.  Let  us  to  the 
ruins  of  the  castle ;  it  may  be  we  shall  there  learn  some 
tidings  of  him." 

While  they  thus  spoke,  a  loud  shout  among  the  yeo- 


342  IV AN  HOE. 

men  announced  the  arrival  of  him  for  whom  they  feared, 
as  they  learned  from  the  stentorian  voice  of  the  Friar 
himself,  long  before  they  saw  his  burly  person. 

"  Make  room,  my  merry  men !  "  he  exclaimed —  "  room 
for  your  godly  father  and  his  prisoner.  Cry  welcome 
once  more.  —  I  come,  noble  leader,  like  an  eagle  with  my 
prey  in  my  clutch."  And  making  his  way  through  the 
ring,  amidst  the  laughter  of  all  around,  he  appeared  in 
majestic  triumph,  his  huge  partisan  in  one  hand,  and  in 
the  other  a  halter,  one  end  of  which  was  fastened  to  the 
neck  of  the  unfortunate  Isaac  of  York,  who,  bent  down 
by  sorrow  and  terror,  was  dragged  on  by  the  victorious 
priest,  who  shouted  aloud,  "  Where  is  Allan-a-Dale,  to 
chronicle  me  in  a  ballad,  or  if  it  were  but  a  lay  ?  — 
By  St.  Hermangild,  the  jingling  crowder  is  ever  out 
of  the  way  where  there  is  an  apt  theme  for  exalting 
valour ! " 

"  Curtal  Priest,"  said  the  captain,  "  thou  hast  been  at 
a  wet  mass  this  morning,  as  early  as  it  is.  In  the  name 
of  St.  Nicholas,  whom  hast  thou  got  here  ?  " 

"  A  captive  to  my  sword  and  to  my  lance,  noble 
captain,"  replied  the  Clerk  of  Copmanhurst,  "to  my 
bow  and  to  my  halberd,  I  should  rather  say;  and  yet 
I  have  redeemed  him  by  my  divinity  from  a  worse 
captivity.  Speak,  Jew  —  have  I  not  ransomed  thee 
from  Sathanas  ?  —  have  I  not  taught  thee  thy  credo, 
thy  x>ater,  and  thine  Ave  Maria  ?  —  Did  I  not  spend 
the  whole  night  in  drinking  to  thee,  and  in  expound- 
ing of  mysteries  ?  " 

"  For  the  love  of  God !  "  ejaculated  the  poor  Jew,  "  will 
no  one  take  me  out  of  the  keeping  of  this  mad  —  I  mean 
this  holy  man  ?  " 

"  How's  this,  Jew  ?  "  said  the  Friar,  with  a  menacing 
aspect ;  "  dost  thou  recant,  Jew  ?  —  Bethink  thee,  if  thou 
dost  relapse  into  thine  infidelity,  though  thou  art  not  so 
tender  as  a  suckling  pig  —  I  would  I  had  one  to  break  my 
fast  upon  —  thou  art  not  too  tough  to  be  roasted !  Be 
conformable,  Isaac,  and  repeat  the  words  after  me.  Ave 
Maria ! " 

"Nay,  we  will -have  no  profanation,  mad  Priest,"  said 


.V-/ 


jQ^ 


e-  rotim  ,  my  merfy  -me^n    » 


r»\y  meri"y 


IV AN  HOE.  343 

Locksley ;    "  let  us   rather    hear  where   you  found    this 
prisoner  of  thine."' 

"  By  St.  Dunstan  !  "  said  the  Friar,  "  I  found  him  where 
I  sought  for  better  ware !  I  did  step  into  the  cellarage 
to  see  what  might  be  rescued  there  ;  for  though  a  cup  of 
burnt  wine,  with  spice,  be  an  evening's  draught  for  an 
emperor,  it  were  waste,  methought,  to  let  so  much  good 
liquor  be  mulled  at  once ;  and  I  had  caught  up  one  run- 
let of  sack,  and  was  coming  to  call  more  aid  among  these 
lazy  knaves,  who  are  ever  to  seek  when  a  good  deed  is  to 
be  done,  when  I  was  avised  of  a  strong  door.  —  Aha ! 
thought  I,  here  is  the  choicest  juice  of  all  in  this  secret 
crypt ;  and  the  knave  butler,  being  disturbed  in  his  voca- 
tion, hath  left  the  key  in  the  door  —  In  therefore  I  went, 
and  found  just  nought  besides  a  commodity  of  rusted 
chains  and  this  dog  of  a  Jew.  who  presently  rendered 
himself  my  prisoner,  rescue  or  no  rescue.  I  did  but  re- 
fresh myself  after  the  fatigue  of  the  action  with  the 
unbeliever,  with  one  humming  cup  of  sack,  and  was  pro- 
ceeding to  lead  forth  my  captive,  when,  crash  after  crash, 
as  with  wild  thunder-dint  and  levin-fire,  down  toppled  the 
masonrv  of  another  tower  (marry  beshrew  their  hands 
that  built  it  not  the  firmer!)  and  blocked  up  the  pas- 
sage. The  roar  of  one  falling  tower  followed  another 
—  I  gave  up  thought  of  life  ;  and  deeming  it  a  dishonour 
to  one  of  my  profession  to  pass  out  of  this  world  in  com- 
pany with  a  Jew,  I  heaved  up  my  halberd  to  beat  his 
brains  out;  but  I  took  pity  on  his  grey  hairs,  and  judged 
it  better  to  lay  down  the  partisan,  and  take  up  my  spiritual 
weapon  for  his  conversion.  And  truly,  by  the  blessing  of 
St.  Dunstan,  the  seed  has  been  sown  in  good  soil ;  only 
that,  with  speaking  to  him  of  mysteries  through  the 
whole  night,  and  being  in  a  manner  fasting  (for  the  few 
draughts  of  sack  which  I  sharpened  my  wits  with,  were 
not  worth  marking)  my  head  is  well-nigh  dizzied,  I 
trow.  But  I  was  clean  exhausted.  Gilbert  and  TVib- 
bald  know  in  what  state  they  found  me  —  quite  and 
clean  exhausted." 

"  We  can  bear  witness,"  said  Gilbert ;  "  for  when  we 
had  cleared  away  the  ruin,  and  by  St.  Dunstan's  help 


344  IVANHOE. 

lighted  upon  the  dungeon  stair,  we  found  the  runlet  of 
sack  half-empty,  the  Jew  half-dead,  and  the  Friar  more 
than  half  —  exhausted,  as  he  calls  it." 

"  Ye  be  knaves  !  ye  lie  !  "  retorted  the  offended  Friar ; 
"it  was  you  and  your  gormandising  companions  that 
drank  up  the  sack,  and  called  it  your  morning  draught. 
I  am  a  pagan,  an  I  kept  it  not  for  the  captain's  own 
throat.  But  what  recks  it  ?  The  Jew  is  converted,  and 
understands  all  I  have  told  him,  very  nearly,  if  not  alto- 
gether, as  well  as  myself." 

"  Jew,"  said  the  captain,  "  is  this  true  ?  Hast  thou 
renounced  thine  unbelief  ?  " 

"  May  I  so  find  mercy  in  your  eyes,"  said  the  Jew, 
"as  I  know  not  one  word  which  the  reverend  prelate 
spake  to  me  all  this  fearful  night.  Alas !  I  was  so  dis- 
traught with  agony,  and  fear,  and  grief,  that  had  our 
holy  father  Abraham  come  to  preach  to  me,  he  had 
found  but  a  deaf  listener." 

"Thou  liest,  Jew,  and  thou  knowest  thou  dost,"  said 
the  Friar ;  "  I  will  remind  thee  but  of  one  word  of  our 
conference :  thou  didst  promise  to  give  all  thy  substance 
to  our  holy  Order." 

"  So  help  me  the  Promise,  fair  sirs,"  said  Isaac,  even 
more  alarmed  than  before,  "as  no  such  sounds  ever 
crossed  my  lips  !  Alas  !  I  am  an  aged  beggar'd  man  —  I 
fear  me  a  childless  —  have  ruth  on  me,  and  let  me  go !  " 

"  Nay,"  said  the  Friar,  "  if  thou  dost  retract  vows 
made  in  favour  of  holy  church,  thou  must  do  penance." 

Accordingly,  he  raised  his  halberd,  and  would  have 
laid  the  staff  of  it  lustily  on  the  Jew's  shoulders,  had  not 
the  Black  Knight  stopped  the  blow,  and  thereby  trans- 
ferred the  holy  clerk's  resentment  to  himself. 

"By  St.  Thomas  of  Kent,"  said  he,  "an  I  buckle  to 
my  gear,  I  will  teach  thee,  sir  lazy  lover,  to  mell  with 
thine  own  matters,  maugre  thine  iron  case  there  !  " 

"Nay,  be  not  wroth  with  me,"  said  the  Knight;  "thou 
knowest  I  am  thy  sworn  friend  and  comrade." 

"  I  know  no  such  thing,"  answered  the  Friar ;  "  and 
defy  thee  for  a  meddling  coxcomb  !  " 

"  Nay,  but,"  said  the  Knight,  who  seemed  to  take  a 


IVANHOE.  345 

pleasure  in  provoking  his  quondam  host,  "  hast  thou  for- 
gotten how,  that  for  ray  sake  —  for  I  say  nothing  of  the 
temptation  of  the  flagon  and  the  pasty  —  thou  didst 
break  thy  vow  of  fast  and  vigil  ?  " 

"  Truly,  friend,"  said  the  Friar,  clenching  his  huge  fist, 
"  I  will  bestow  a  buffet  on  thee." 

"  I  accept  of  no  such  presents,"  said  the  Knight ;  "  I 
am  content  to  take  thy  cuff  as  a  loan,  but  I  will  repay 
thee  with  usury  as  deep  as  ever  thy  prisoner  there  ex- 
acted in  his  traffic." 

"  I  will  prove  that  presently,"  said  the  Friar. 

"  Hola !  "  cried  the  captain,  "  what  art  thou  after,  mad 
Friar  ?  brawling  beneath  our  trysting-tree  ?  " 

"  No  brawling,"  said  the  Knight ;  "  it  is  but  a  friendly 
interchange  of  courtesy.  Friar,  strike  an  thou  darest  — 
I  will  stand  thy  blow,  if  thou  will  stand  mine." 

"  Thou  hast  the  advantage  with  that  iron  pot  on  thy 
head,"  said  the  churchman;  "but  have  at  thee  —  Down 
thou  goest,  an  thou  wert  Goliath  of  Gath  in  his  brazen 
helmet." 

The  Friar  bared  his  brawny  arm  up  to  the  elbow,  and 
putting  his  full  strength  to  the  blow,  gave  the  Knight  a 
buffet  that  might  have  felled  an  ox.  But  his  adversary 
stood  firm  as  a  rock.  A  loud  shout  was  uttered  by  all 
the  yeomen  around;  for  the  clerk's  cuff  was  proverbial 
amongst  them,  and  there  were  few  who,  in  jest  or  earnest, 
had  not  had  occasion  to  know  its  vigour.  "  Now,  priest," 
said  the  Knight,  pulling  off  his  gauntlet,  "  if  I  had  van- 
tage on  my  head,  I  will  have  none  on  my  hand ;  stand  fast 
as  a  true  man." 

"  Genam  meam  dedi  vapulatori  —  I  have  given  my  cheek 
to  the  smiter,"  said  the  priest ;  "  an  thou  canst  stir  me 
from  the  spot,  fellow,  I  will  freely  bestow  on  thee  the 
Jew's  ransom." 

So  spoke  the  burly  priest,  assuming,  on  his  part,  high 
defiance.  But  who  may  resist  his  fate  ?  The  buffet  of 
the  Knight  was  given  with  such  strength  and  good-will 
that  the  Friar  rolled  head  over  heels  upon  the  plain,  to 
the  great  amazement  of  all  the  spectators.  But  he  arose 
neither  angry  nor  crestfallen. 


346  IVANHOE. 

"  Brother,"  said  he  to  the  Knight,  "  thou  shouldst  have 
used  thy  strength  with  more  discretion.  I  had  mumbled 
but  a  lame  mass  an  thou  hadst  broken  my  jaw,  for  the 
piper  plays  ill  that  wants  the  nether  chops.  Neverthe- 
less, there  is  my  hand,  in  friendly  witness  that  I  will  ex- 
change no  more  cuffs  with  thee,  having  been  a  loser  by 
the  barter.  End  now  all  unkindness.  Let  us  put  the 
Jew  on  ransom,  since  the  leopard  will  not  change  his 
spots,  and  a  Jew  he  will  continue  to  be." 

"  The  priest,"  said  Clement,  "  is  not  half  so  confident 
of  the  Jew's  conversion  since  he  received  that  buffet  on 
the  ear." 

"  Go  to,  knave,  what  pratest  thou  of  conversions  ? 
What,  is  there  no  respect  ?  —  all  masters  and  no  men  ? — 
I  tell  thee,  fellow,  I  was  somewhat  totty  when  I  received 
the  good  Knight's  blow,  or  I  had  kept  my  ground  under 
it.  But  an  thou  gibest  more  of  it,  thou  shalt  learn  I  can 
give  as  well  as  take." 

"  Peace  all !  "  said  the  captain.  "  And  thou,  Jew,  think 
of  thy  ransom ;  thou  needest  not  to  be  told  that  thy  race 
are  held  to  be  accursed  in  all  Christian  communities,  and 
trust  me  that  we  cannot  endure  thy  presence  among  us. 
Think,  therefore,  of  an  offer,  while  I  examine  a  prisoner 
of  another  cast." 

"Were  many  of  Front-de-Bceuf 's  men  taken  ? "  de- 
manded the  Black  Knight. 

"None  of  note  enough  to  be  put  to  ransom,"  answered 
the  captain ;  "a  set  of  hilding  fellows  there  were,  whom  we 
dismissed  to  find  them  a  new  master;  enough  had  been 
done  for  revenge  and  profit ;  the  bunch  of  them  were  not 
worth  a  cardecu.  The  prisoner  I  speak  of  is  better  booty  — 
a  jolly  monk  riding  to  visit  his  leman,  an  I  may  judge  by 
his  horse-gear  and  wearing  apparel  —  Here  cometh  the 
worthy  prelate,  as  pert  as  a  pyet."  And  between  two  yeo- 
men was  brought  before  the  silvan  throne  of  the  outlaw 
chief  our  old  friend,  Prior  Aymer  of  Jorvaulx. 


IV AN  HOE.  34; 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

Flower  of  warriors, 
How  is't  with  Titus  Lartius  ? 

Marcius.     As  with  a  man  busied  about  decrees, 
Condemning  some  to  death  and  some  to  exile, 
Ransoming  him  or  pitying,  threatening  the  other. 

Coriolanus. 

The  captive  Abbot's  features  and  manners  exhibited  a 
whimsical  mixture  of  offended  pride,  and  deranged  foppery, 
and  bodily  terror. 

"  Why,  how  now,  my  masters  ?  "  said  he,  with  a  voice 
in  which  all  three  emotions  were  blended.  "  What  order 
is  this  among  ye  ?  Be  ye  Turks  or  Christians,  that  han- 
dle a  churchman  ?  —  Know  ye  what  it  is,  manus  imponere 
in  servos  Domini  f  Ye  have  plundered  my  mails,  torn  my 
cope  of  curious  cut  lace,  which  might  have  served  a  cardi- 
nal. Another  in  my  place  would  have  been  at  his  excom- 
municabo  vos  ;  but  I  am  placable,  and  if  ye  order  forth 
my  palfreys,  release  my  brethren,  and  restore  my  mails, 
tell  down  with  all  speed  an  hundred  crowns  to  be  ex- 
pended in  masses  at  the  high  altar  of  Jorvaulx  Abbey, 
and  make  your  vow  to  eat  no  venison  until  next  Pen- 
tecost, it  may  be  you  shall  hear  little  more  of  this  mad 
frolic." 

"  Holy  father,"  said  the  chief  outlaw,  "  it  grieves  me  to 
think  that  you  have  met  with  such  usage  from  any  of  my 
followers  as  calls  for  your  fatherly  reprehension." 

"  Usage ! "  echoed  the  priest,  encouraged  by  the  mild 
tone  of  the  silvan  leader ;  "  it  were  usage  fit  for  no  hound 
of  good  race — much  less  for  a  Christian  —  ^ar  less  for  a 
priest  —  and  least  of  all  for  the  prior  of  the  holy  com- 
munity of  Jorvaulx.  Here  is  a  profane  and  drunken 
minstrel,  called  Allan-a-Dale — nebulo  quidam  —  who  has 
menaced  me  with  corporal  punishment — nay,  with  death 
itself,  an  I  pay  not  down  four  hundred  crowns  of  ran- 
som, to  the  boot  of  all  the  treasure  he  hath  already 
robbed  me  of — gold  chains  and  gymmal  rings  to  an  un- 
known value ;  besides  what  is  broken  and  spoiled  among 


348  IVANHOE. 

their  rude  hands,  such  as  my  pouncet-box  and  silver 
crisping-tongs." 

"It  is  impossible  that  Allan-a-Dale  can  have  thus 
treated  a  man  of  your  reverend  bearing/'  replied  the 
captain. 

"  It  is  true  as  the  gospel  of  St.  Mcodemus,"  said  the 
Prior ;  "  he  swore,  with  many  a  cruel  north-country  oath, 
that  he  would  hang  me  up  on  the  highest  tree  in  the 
greenwood." 

"  Did  he  so  in  very  deed  ?  Nay,  then,  reverend  father, 
I  think  you  had  better  comply  with  his  demands  —  for 
Allan-a-Dale  is  the  very  man  to  abide  by  his  word  when 
he  has  so  pledged  it." 

"  You  do  but  jest  with  me,"  said  the  astounded  Prior, 
with  a  forced  laugh;  "and  I  love  a  good  jest  with 
all  my  heart.  But,  ha !  ha !  ha !  when  the  mirth  has 
lasted  the  livelong  night,  it  is  time  to  be  grave  in  the 
morning." 

"And  I  am  as  grave  as  a  father  confessor,"  replied  the 
outlaw;  "you  must  pay  a  round  ransom,  Sir  Prior,  or 
your  convent  is  likely  to  be  called  to  a  new  election ;  for 
your  place  will  know  you  no  more." 

"Are  ye  Christians,"  said  the  Prior,  "and  hold  this 
language  to  a  churchman  ?  " 

"  Christians !  ay,  marry  are  we,  and  have  divinity 
among  us  to  boot,"  answered  the  outlaw.  "Let  our 
buxom  chaplain  stand  fprth,  and  expound  to  this  rev- 
erend father  the  texts  which  concern  this  matter." 

The  Friar,  half-drunk,  half -sober,  had  huddled  a  friar's 
frock  over  his  green  cassock,  and  now  summoning  to- 
gether whatever  scraps  of  learning  he  had  acquired  by 
rote  in  former  days  —  "Holy  father,"  said  he,  " Deus 
faciat  salvam  benignitatem  vestram  —  you  are  welcome  to 
the  greenwood." 

"  What  profane  mummery  is  this  ? "  said  the  Prior. 
"Friend,  if  thou  be'st  indeed  of  the  church,  it  were  a 
better  deed  to  show  me  how  I  may  escape  from  these 
men's  hands  than  to  stand  ducking  and  grinning  here 
like  a  morris-dancer." 

"  Truly,  reverend  father,"  said  the  Friar,  "  I  know  but 


IV AX  HOE.  349 

one  mode  in  which  thou  niayest  escape.     This  is  St.  An 
drew's  dav  with  us :  we  are  taking  our  tithes." 

"But  not  of  the  church,  then,  I  trust,  my  good  brother? ,: 
said  the  Prior. 

"  Of  church  and  lay,"  said  the  Friar ;  "  and  therefore.  Sir 
Prior,  facite  vobis  amicos  de  mammone  iniquitatis  —  make 
vourselves  friends  of  the  mammon  of  unrighteousness,  for 
no  other  friendship  is  like  to  serve  your  turn." 

•'I  love  a  jolly  woodsman  at  heart,"  said  the  Prior, 
softening  his  tone ;  "  come,  ye  must  not  deal  too  hard 
with  me  —  I  can  well  of  woodcraft,  and  can  wind  a  horn 
clear  and  lustily,  and  hollo  till  every  oak  rings  again  — 
Come,  ye  must  not  deal  too  hard  with  me." 

"  Give  him  a  horn."  said  the  outlaw;  "we  will  prove 
the  skill  he  boasts  of." 

The  Prior  Avmer  winded  a  blast  accordingly.  The 
captain  shook  his  head. 

"  Sir  Prior,"  he  said,  "  thou  blowest  a  merry  note,  but 
it  may  not  ransom  thee ;  we  cannot  afford,  as  the  legend 
on  a  good  knight's  shield  hath  it,  to  set  thee  free  for  a 
blast.  Moreover,  I  have  found  thee  —  thou  art  one  of 
those  who,  with  new  French  graces  and  tra-li-ras,  disturb 
the  ancient  English  bugle  notes. — Prior,  that  last  flour- 
ish on  the  recheat  hath  added  fifty  crowns  to  thy  ransom, 
for  corrupting  the  true  old  manly  blasts  of  venerie." 

"  Well,  friend,"  said  the  Abbot,  peevishly,  "  thou  art  ill 
to  please  with  thy  woodcraft.  I  pray  thee  be  more  con- 
formable in  this  matter  of  my  ransom.  At  a  word  — 
since  I  must  needs,  for  once,  hold  a  candle  to  the  devil  — 
what  ransom  am  I  to  pay  for  walking  on  Watling  Street 
without  having  fifty  men  at  my  back  ?  " 

"  "Were  it  not  well,"  said  the  lieutenant  of  the  gang 
apart  to  the  captain,  "  that  the  Prior  should  name  the 
Jew's  ransom  and  the  Jew  name  the  Prior's  ?  " 

"  Thou  art  a  mad  knave,"  said  the  captain,  u  but  thy 
plan  transcends  !  —  Here,  Jew,  step  forth  — Look  at  that 
holy  Father  Aymer,  Prior  of  the  rich  Abbey  of  Jorvaulx, 
and  tell  us  at  what  ransom  we  should  hold  him  ?  — Thou 
knowest  the  income  of  his  convent,  I  warrant  thee." 

"Oh,  assuredly,"  said  Isaac.     "I  have  trafficked  with 


350  IV AN  HOE. 

the  good  fathers,  and  bought  wheat  and  barley,  and  fruits 
of  the  earth,  and  also  much  wool.  Oh,  it  is  a  rich  abbey- 
stede,  and  they  do  live  upon  the  fat,  and  drink  the  sweet 
wines  upon  the  lees,  these  good  fathers  of  Jorvaulx.  Ah, 
if  an  outcast  like  me  had  such  a  home  to  go  to,  and  such 
incomings  by  the  year  and  by  the  month,  I  would  pay 
much  gold  and  silver  to  redeem  my  captivity." 

"  Hound  of  a  Jew  !  "  exclaimed  the  Prior,  "  no  one 
knows  better  than  thy  own  cursed  self  that,  our  holy 
house  of  God  is  indebted  for  the  finishing  of  our  chan- 
cel   " 

"  And  for  the  storing  of  your  cellars  in  the  last  season 
with  the  due  allowance  of  Gascon  wine,"  interrupted  the 
Jew;  "but  that  —  that  is  small  matters." 

"  Hear  the  infidel  dog  !  "  said  the  churchman  ;  "  he 
jangles  as  if  our  holy  community  did  come  under  debts 
for  the  wines  we  have  a  license  to  drink  propter  necessi- 
tate?n  et  ad  frigus  depellendum.  The  circumcised  villain 
blasphemeth  the  holy  church,  and  Christian  men  listen 
and  rebuke  him  not !  " 

"All  this  helps  nothing,"  said  the  leader.  "Isaac, 
pronounce  what  he  may  pay,  without  flaying  both  hide 
and  hair." 

"  An  six  hundred  crowns,"  said  Isaac,  "  the  good  Prior 
might  well  pay  to  your  honoured  valours,  and  never  sit  less 
soft  in  his  stall." 

"  Six  hundred  crowns,/'  said  the  leader,  gravely  ;  "  I  am 
contented  —  thou  hast  well  spoken,  Isaac  —  six  hundred 
crowns.     It  is  a  sentence,  Sir  Prior." 

"  A  sentence  !  —  a  sentence  !  "  exclaimed  the  band  j 
"  Solomon  had  not  done  it  better." 

"  Thou  nearest  thy  doom,  Prior,"  said  the  leader. 

"  Ye  are  mad,  my  masters,"  said  the  Prior ;  "  where 
am  I  to  find  such  a  sum  ?  If  I  sell  the  very  pyx  and 
candlesticks  on  the  altar  at  Jorvaulx,  I  shall  scarce  raise 
the  half ;  and  it  will  be  necessary  for  that  purpose  that 
I  go  to  Jorvaulx  myself ;  ye  may  retain  as  borrows  my 
two  priests." 

"That  will  be  but  blind  trust,"  said  the  outlaw;  "we 
will  retain  thee,  Prior,  and  send  them  to  fetch  thy  ran- 


IVANHOE.  351 

som.  Thou  shalt  not  want  a  cup  of  wine  and  a  collop 
of  venison  the  while ;  and  if  thou  lovest  woodcraft,  thou 
shalt  see  such  as  your  north  country  never  witnessed." 

"  Or,  if  so  please  you,"  said  Isaac,  willing  to  curry 
favour  with  the  outlaws,  "  I  can  send  to  York  for  the  six 
hundred  crowns,  out  of  certain  monies  in  my  hands,  if  so 
be  that  the  most  reverend  Prior  present  will  grant  me  a 
quittance." 

"  He  shall  grant  thee  whatever  thou  dost  list,  Isaac," 
said  the  captain  ;  "  and  thou  shalt  lay  down  the  redemp- 
tion money  for  Prior  Aymer  as  well  as  for  thyself." 

"  For  myself !  ah,  courageous  sirs,"  said  the  Jew,  "  I 
am  a  broken  and  impoverished  man  ;  a  beggar's  staff 
must  be  my  portion  through  life,  supposing  I  were  to  pay 
you  fifty  crowns." 

"  The  Prior  shall  judge  of  that  matter,"  replied  the 
captain. —  "  How  say  you,  Father  Aymer  ?  Can  the  Jew 
afford  a  good  ransom  ?  " 

"  Can  he  afford  a  ransom  ?  "  answered  the  Prior.  "  Is 
he  not  Isaac  of  York,  rich  enough  to  redeem  the  captivity 
of  the  ten  tribes  of  Israel  who  were  led  into  Assyrian 
bondage  ?  —  I  have  seen  but  little  of  him  myself,  but  our 
cellarer  and  treasurer  have  dealt  largely  with  him,  and 
report  says  that  his  house  at  York  is  so  full  of  gold  and 
silver  as  is  a  shame  in  any  Christian  land.  Marvel  it  is 
to  all  living  Christian  hearts  that  such  gnawing  adders 
should  be  suffered  to  eat  into  the  bowels  of  the  state, 
and  even  of  the  holy  church  herself,  with  foul  usuries 
and  extortions." 

"  Hold,  father,"  said  the  Jew,  "  mitigate  and  assuage 
your  choler.  I  pray  of  your  reverence  to  remember  that 
I  force  my  monies  upon  no  one.  But  when  churchmen 
and  laymen,  prince  and  prior,  knight  and  priest,  come 
knocking  to  Isaac's  door,  they  borrow  not  his  shekels 
with  these  uncivil  terms.  It  is  then  'Friend  Isaac,  will 
you  pleasure  us  in  this  matter,  and  our  day  shall  be  truly 
kept,  so  God  sa'  me?'  —  and 'Kind  Isaac,  if  ever  you 
served  man,  show  yourself  a  friend  in  this  need ! '  And 
when  the  day  comes,  and  I  ask  my  own,  then  what  hear 
I  but  '  Damned  Jew,'  and  '  the  curse  of  Egypt  on  your 


352  IVANHOE. 

tribe/  and  all  that  may  stir  up  the  rude  and  uncivil  pop- 
ulace against  poor  strangers  !  " 

"  Prior,"  said  the  captain,  "  Jew  though  he  be,  he  hath 
in  this  spoken  well.  Do  thou,  therefore,  name  his  ran- 
som, as  he  named  thine,  without  farther  rude  terms." 

"None  but  latro  famosus — the  interpretation  whereof," 
said  the  Prior,  "  will  I  give  at  some  other  time  and  tide 
—  would  place  a  Christian  prelate  and  an  unbaptized  Jew 
upon  the  same  bench.  But  since  you  require  me  to  put 
a  price  upon  this  caitiff,  I  tell  you  openly  that  ye  will 
wrong  yourselves  if  you  take  from  him  a  penny  under  a 
thousand  crowns." 

"  A  sentence  !  —  a  sentence  !  "  exclaimed  the  chief 
outlaw. 

"A  sentence!  —  a  sentence!"  shouted  his  assessors; 
"  the  Christian  has  shown  his  good  nurture,  and  dealt  with 
us  more  generously  than  the  Jew." 

"  The  God  of  my  fathers  help  me ! "  said  the  Jew ; 
"  will  ye  bear  to  the  ground  an  impoverished  creature  ? 
I  am  this  day  childless,  and  will  ye  deprive  me  of  the 
means  of  livelihood  ?  " 

"  Thou  wilt  have  the  less  to  provide  for,  Jew,  if  thou 
art  childless,"  said  Aymer. 

"  Alas !  my  lord,"  said  Isaac,  "  your  law  permits  you 
not  to  know  how  the  child  of  our  bosom  is  entwined  with 
the  strings  of  our  heart.  0  Rebecca !  daughter  of  my 
beloved  Rachel !  were  each  leaf  on  that  tree  a  zecchin, 
and  each  zecchin  mine  own,  all  that  mass  of  wealth  would 
I  give  to  know  whether  thou  art  alive,  and  escaped  the 
hands  of  the  Nazarene !  " 

"  Was  not  thy  daughter  dark-haired  ?  "  said  one  of  the 
outlaws;  "and  wore. she  not  a  veil  of  twisted  sendal, 
broidered  with  silver  ?  " 

"  She  did  !  —  she  did  !  "  said  the  old  man,  trembling 
vith  eagerness,  as  formerly  with  fear.  "  The  blessing  of 
Jacob  be  upon  thee !  Canst  thou  tell  me  aught  of  her 
safety  ?  " 

"  It  was  she,  then,"  said  the  yeoman,  "  who  was  carried 
off  by  the  proud  Templar,  when  he  broke  through  our 
ranks  on  yester-even.     I  had  drawn  my  bow  to  send  a 


IVANHOE.  353 

shaft  after  him,  but  spared  him  even  for  the  sake  of  the 
damsel,  who  I  feared  might  take  harm  from  the  arrow." 

"  Oh !  "  answered  the  Jew,  "  I  would  to  God  thou  hadst 
shot,  though  the  arrow  had  pierced  her  bosom  !  —  Better 
the  tomb  of  her  fathers  than  the  dishonourable  couch 
of  the  licentious  and  savage  Templar.  Ichabod !  Ichabod ! 
the  glory  hath  departed  from  my  house  ! " 

"  Friends,"  said  the  chief,  looking  round,  "the  old  man 
is  but  a  Jew,  natheless  his  grief  touches  me.  —  Deal  up- 
rightly with  us,  Isaac  —  will  paying  this  ransom  of  a 
thousand  crowns  leave  thee  altogether  penniless  ?  " 

Isaac,  recalled  to  think  of  his  worldly  goods,  the  love 
of  which,  by  dint  of  inveterate  habit,  contended  even 
with  his  parental  affection,  grew  pale,  stammered,  and 
could  not  deny  there  might  be  some  small  surplus. 

w  Well,  go  to,  what  though  there  be,"  said  the  outlaw, 
"'we  will  not  reckon  with  thee  too  closely.  Without 
treasure  thou  mayst  as  well  hope  to  redeem  thy  child 
from  the  clutches  of  Sir  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  as  to 
shoot  a  stag-royal  with  a  headless  shaft.  —  We  will  take 
thee  at  the  same  ransom  with  Prior  Aymer,  or  rather  at 
one  hundred  crowns  lower,  which  hundred  crowns  shall 
be  mine  own  peculiar  loss,  and  not  light  upon  this  wor- 
shipful community;  and  so  we  shall  avoid  the  heinous 
offence  of  rating  a  Jew  merchant  as  high  as  a  Christian 
prelate,  and  thou  wilt  have  six  hundred  crowns  remaining 
to  treat  for  thy  daughter's  ransom.  Templars  love  the 
glitter  of  silver  shekels  as  well  as  the  sparkle  of  black 
eyes.  —  Hasten  to  make  thy  crowns  chink  in  the  ear  of 
Be  Bois-Guilbert,  ere  worse  comes  of  it.  Thou  wilt  find 
him,  as  our  scouts  have  brought  notice,  at  the  next  Pre- 
ceptory  house  of  his  Order.  —  Said  I  well,  my  merry 
mates  ?  " 

The  yeomen  expressed  their  wonted  acquiescence  in 
their  leader's  opinion ;  and  Isaac,  relieved  of  one-half  of 
his  apprehensions,  by  learning  that  his  daughter  lived, 
and  might  possibly  be  ransomed,  threw  himself  at  the 
feet  of  the  generous  outlaw,  and,  rubbing  his  beard 
against  his  buskins,  sought  to  kiss  the  hem  of  his  green 
cassock.  The  captain  drew  himself  back,  and  extricated 
2a 


354  IVANHOE. 

himself  from  the  Jew's  grasp,  not  without  some  marks 
of  contempt. 

"  Nay,  beshrew  thee,  man,  up  with  thee  !  I  am  Eng- 
lish born,  and  love  no  such  Eastern  prostrations.  Kneel 
to  God,  and  not  to  a  poor  sinner  like  me." 

"  Ay,  Jew,"  said  Prior  Aymer,  "  kneel  to  God,  as  rep- 
resented in  the  servant  of  His  altar,  and  who  knows, 
with  thy  sincere  repentance  and  due  gifts  to  the  shrine 
of  St.  Robert,  what  grace  thou  mayst  acquire  for  thyself 
and  thy  daughter  Rebecca?  I  grieve  for  the  maiden, 
for  she  is  of  fair  and  comely  countenance  —  I  beheld 
her  in  the  lists  of  Ashby.  Also  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  is 
one  with  whom  I  may  do  much  —  bethink  thee  how  thou 
mayst  deserve  my  good  word  with  him." 

"  Alas !  alas ! "  said  the  Jew,  "  on  every  hand  the 
spoilers  arise  against  me  —  I  am  given  as  a  prey  unto 
the  Assyrian,  and  a  prey  unto  him  of  Egypt." 

"And  what  else  should  be  the  lot  of  thy  accursed 
race  ?  "  answered  the  Prior ;  "  for  what  saith  Holy  Writ, 
verbum  Domini  projeceru^t,  et  sapientia  est  nulla  in  eis — 
they  have  cast  forth  the  Word  of  the  Lord,  and  there  is 
no  wisdom  in  them  — propterea  dabo  mulieres  eorum  exteris 
—  I  will  give  their  women  to  strangers,  that  is  to  the 
Templar,  as  in  the  present  matter  —  et  thesauros  eorum 
hceredibus  alienis  —  and  their  treasures  to  others,  as  in 
the  present  case  to  these  honest  gentlemen." 

Isaac  groaned  deeply,  and  began  to  wring  his  hands, 
and  to  relapse  into  his  state  of  desolation  and  despair. 
But  the  leader  of  the  yeomen  led  him  aside. 

"  Advise  thee  well,  Isaac,"  said  Locksley,  "  what  thou 
wilt  do  in  this  matter ;  my  counsel  to  thee  is  to  make  a 
friend  of  this  churchman.  He  is  vain,  Isaac,  and  he  is 
covetous;  at  least  he  needs  money  to  supply  his  profu- 
sion. Thou  canst  easily  gratify  his  greed ;  for  think  not 
that  I  am  blinded  by  thy  pretexts  of  poverty.  I  am  in- 
timately acquainted,  Isaac,  with  the  very  iron  chest  in 
which  thou  dost  keep  thy  money-bags.  —  What !  know 
I  not  the  great  stone  beneath  the  apple  tree,  that  leads 
into  the  vaulted  chamber  under  thy  garden  at  York  ? ' 
The  Jew  grew  as  pale  as  death.    "  But  fear  nothing  from 


IYANHOE.  355 

me,"  continued  the  yeoman,  "  for  we  are  of  old  acquainted. 
Dost  thou  not  remember  the  sick  yeoman  whom  thy  fair 
daughter  Rebecca  redeemed  from  the  gyves  at  York,  and 
kept  him  in  thy  house  till  his  health  was  restored,  when 
thou  didst  dismiss  him  recovered,  and  with  a  piece  of 
money  ?  Usurer  as  thou  art,  thou  didst  never  place  coin 
at  better  interest  than  that  poor  silver  mark,  for  it  has 
this  day  saved  thee  five  hundred  crowns." 

"  And  thou  art  he  whom  we  called  Diccon  Bend-the- 
Bow,"  said  Isaac ;  "  I  thought  ever  I  knew  the  accent  of 
thy  voice." 

"  I  am  Bend-the-Bow,"  said  the  captain,  "  and  Locks- 
ley,  and  have  a  good  name  besides  all  these." 

"  But  thou  art  mistaken,  good  Bend-the-Bow,  concern- 
ing that  same  vaulted  apartment.  So  help  me  heaven, 
as  there  is  nought  in  it  but  some  merchandises  which  I 
will  gladly  part  with  to  you  —  one  hundred  yards  of  Lin- 
coln green  to  make  doublets  to  thy  men,  and  a  hundred 
staves  of  Spanish  yew  to  make  bows,  and  one  hundred 
silken  bowstrings,  tough,  round,  and  sound  —  these  will 
I  send  thee  for  thy  good-will,  honest  Diccon,  an  thou 
wilt  keep  silence  about  the  vault,  my  good  Diccon." 

"  Silent  as  a  dormouse,"  said  the  outlaw ;  "  and  never 
trust  me  but  I  am  grieved  for  thy  daughter.  But  I  may 
not  help  it.  The  Templar's  lances  are  too  strong  for  my 
archery  in  the  open  field  —  they  would  scatter  us  like 
dust.  Had  I  but  known  it  was  Rebecca  when  she  was 
borne  off,  something  might  have  been  done ;  but  now 
thou  must  needs  proceed  by  policy.  Come,  shall  I  treat 
for  thee  with  the  Prior  ?  " 

"  In  God's  name,  Diccon,  an  thou  canst,  aid  me  to  re- 
cover the  child  of  my  bosom  !  " 

"Do  not  thou  interrupt  me  with  thine  ill-timed  ava- 
rice," said  the  outlaw,  "  and  I  will  deal  with,  him  in  thy 
behalf." 

He  then  turned  from  the  Jew,  who  followed  him, 
however,  as  closely  as  his  shadow. 

"Prior  Aymer,"  said  the  captain,  "come  apart  with 
me  under  this  tree.  Men  say  thou  dost  love  wine  and  a 
lady's  smile  better  than  beseems  thy  Order,  Sir  Priest ; 


356  IVANHOE. 

but  with  that  I  have  nought  to  do.  I  have  heard,  too, 
thou  dost  love  a  brace  of  good  dogs  and  a  fleet  horse,  and 
it  may  well  be  that,  loving  things  which  are  costly  to 
come  by,  thou  hatest  not  a  purse  of  gold.  But  I  have 
never  heard  that  thou  didst  love  oppression  or  cruelty.  — 
Now,  here  is  Isaac  willing  to  give  thee  the  means  of 
pleasure  and  pastime  in  a  bag  containing  one  hundred 
marks  of  silver,  if  thy  intercession  with  thine  ally  the 
Templar  shall  avail  to  procure  the  freedom  of  his 
daughter." 

"  In  safety  and  honour,  as  when  taken  from  me,"  said 
the  Jew,  "  otherwise  it  is  no  bargain." 

"Peace,  Isaac,"  said  the  outlaw,  "or  I  give  up  thine 
interest.  —  What  say  you  to  this  my  purpose,  Prior 
Aymer  ?  " 

"The  matter,"  quoth  the  Prior,  "is  of  a  mixed  con- 
dition; for,  if  I  do  a  good  deed  on  the  one  hand,  yet, 
on  the  other,  it  goeth  to  the  vantage  of  a  Jew,  and  in  so 
much  is  against  my  conscience.  Yet,  if  the  Israelite  will 
advantage  the  church  by  giving  me  somewhat  over  to  the 
building  of  our  dortour,  I  will  take  it  on  my  conscience 
to  aid  him  in  the  matter  of  his  daughter." 

"  For  a  score  of  marks  to  the  dortour,"  said  the  outlaw 
— "  Be  still,  I  say,  Isaac !  —  or  for  a  brace  of  silver 
candlesticks  to  the  altar,  we  will  not  stand  with  you." 

"Nay,  but,  good  Diccon  Bend-the-Bow,"  said  Isaac, 
endeavouring  to  interpose. 

"Good  Jew  —  good  beast  —  good  earthworm!"  said  the 
yeoman,  losing  patience ;  "  an  thou  dost  go  on  to  put 
thy  filthy  lucre  in  the  balance  with  thy  daughter's  life 
and  honour,  by  Heaven,  I  will  strip  thee  of  every  mara- 
vedi  thou  hast  in  the  world  before  three  days  are  out ! ' 

Isaac  shrunk  together,  and  was  silent. 

"  And  what  pledge  am  I  to  have  for  all  this  ? "  said 
the  Prior. 

"  When  Isaac  returns  successful  through  your  media- 
tion," said  the  outlaw,  "  I  swear  by  St.  Hubert,  I  will  see 
that  he  pays  thee  the  money  in  good  silver,  or  I  will 
reckon  with  him  for  it  in  such  sort,  he  had  better  have 
paid  twenty  such  sums." 


IVANHOE.  357 

"  Well  then,  Jew,"  said  Aymer,  "  since  I  must  needs 
meddle  in  this  matter,  let  me  have  the  use  of  thy  writing- 
tablets  —  though,  hold  —  rather  than  use  thy  pen,  I  would 
fast  for  twenty-four  hours,  and  where  shall  I  find  one  ?  " 

"If  your  holy  scruples  can  dispense  with  using  the 
Jew's  tablets,  for  the  pen  I  can  find  a  remedy,"  said  the 
yeoman ;  and,  bending  his  bow,  he  aimed  his  shaft  at  a 
wild  goose  which  was  soaring  over  their  heads,  the  ad- 
vanced guard  of  a  phalanx  of  his  tribe,  which  were 
winging  their  way  to  the  distant  and  solitary  fens  of 
Holderness.  The  bird  came  fluttering  down,  transfixed 
with  the  arrow. 

"  There,  Prior,"  said  the  captain,  "  are  quills  enow  to 
supply  all  the  monks  of  Jorvaulx  for  the  next  hundred 
years,  an  they  take  not  to  writing  chronicles." 

The  Prior  sat  •  down,  and  at  great  leisure  indicted  an 
epistle  to  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  and  having  carefully 
sealed  up  the  tablets,  delivered  them  to  the  Jew,  saying : 
"  This  will  be  thy  safe-conduct  to  the  Preceptory  of 
Templestowe,  and,  as  I  think,  is  most  likely  to  accom- 
plish the  delivery  of  thy  daughter,  if  it  be  well  backed 
with  proffers  of  advantage  and  commodity  at  thine  own 
hand;  for,  trust  me  well,  the  good  knight  Bois-Guilbert 
is  of  their  confraternity  that  do  nought  for  nought." 

"  Well,  Prior,"  said  the  outlaw,  "  I  will  detain  thee  no 
longer  here  than  to  give  the  Jew  a  quittance  for  the  six 
hundred  crowns  at  which  thy  ransom  is  fixed  —  I  accept 
of  him  for  my  paymaster ;  and  if  I  hear  that  ye  boggle 
at  allowing  him  in  his  accompts  the  sum  so  paid  by  him, 
St.  Mary  refuse  me,  an  I  burn  not  the  abbey  over  thine 
head,  though  I  hang  ten  years  the  sooner ! " 

With  a  much  worse  grace  than  that  wherewith  he  had 
penned  the  letter  to  Bois-Guilbert,  the  Prior  wrote  an 
acquittance,  discharging  Isaac  of  York  of  six  hundred 
crowns,  advanced  to  him  in  his  need  for  acquittal  of  his 
ransom,  and  faithfully  promising  to  hold  true  compt  with 
him  for  that  sum. 

"And  now,"  said  Prior  Aymer,  "I  will  pray  you  of 
restitution  of  my  mules  and  palfreys,  and  the  freedom  of 
the  reverend  brethren  attending  upon  me,  and  also  of  the 


358  IVANHOE. 

gymraal  rings,  jewels,  and  fair  vestures  of  which  I  have 
been  despoiled,  having  now  satisfied  you  for  my  ransom 
as  a  true  prisoner." 

"  Touching  your  brethren,  Sir  Prior,"  said  Locksley, 
"they  shall  have  present  freedom,  it  were  unjust  to 
detain  them ;  touching  your  horses  and  mules,  they  shall 
also  be  restored,  with  such  spending-money  as  may  enable 
you  to  reach  York,  for  it  were  cruel  to  deprive  you  of  the 
means  of  journeying. — But  as  concerning  rings,  jewels, 
chains,  and  what  else,  you  must  understand  that  we  are 
men  of  tender  consciences,  and  will  not  yield  to  a  ven- 
erable man  like  yourself,  who  should  be  dead  to  the 
vanities  of  this  life,  the  strong  temptation  to  break  the 
rule  of  his  foundation,  by  wearing  rings,  chains,  or  other 
vain  gauds." 

"  Think  what  you  do,  my  masters,"  said  the  Prior,  "  ere 
you  put  your  hand  on  the  Church's  patrimony.  These 
things  are  inter  res  sacras,  and  I  wot  not  what  judgment 
might  ensue  were  they  to  be  handled  by  laical  hands." 

"I  will  take  care  of  that,  reverend  Prior,"  said  the 
hermit  of  Copmanhurst;  "for  I  will  wear  them  myself." 

"Friend,  or  brother,"  said  the  Prior,  in  answer  to  this 
solution  of  his  doubts,  "if  thou  hast  really  taken  re- 
ligious orders,  I  pray  thee  to  look  how  thou  wilt  answer 
to  thine  official  for  the  share  thou  hast  taken  in  this 
day's  work." 

"  Friend  Prior,"  returned  the  hermit,  "  you  are  to  know 
that  I  belong  to  a  little  diocese  where  I  am  my  own 
diocesan,  and  care  as  little  for  the  Bishop  of  York  as  I 
do  for  the  Abbot  of  Jorvaulx,  the  Prior,  and  all  the 
convent." 

"  Thou  art  utterly  irregular,"  said  the  Prior  —  "  one  of 
those  disorderly  men  who,  taking  on  them  the  sacred 
character  without  due  cause,  profane  the  holy  rites,  and 
endanger  the  souls  of  those  who  take  counsel  at  their 
hands ;  lapides  pro  pane  condonantes  Us,  giving  them 
stones  instead  of  bread,  as  the  Vulgate  hath  it." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  Friar,  "  an  my  brain-pan  could  have 
been  broken  by  Latin,  it  had  not  held  so  long  together. 
—  I  say,  that  easing  a  world  of  such  misproud  priests  as 


IVANHOE.  359 

thou  art,  of  their  jewels  and  their  gimcracks  is  a  lawful 
spoiling  of  the  Egyptians." 

"Thou  be'st  a  hedge-priest,"  said  the  Prior,  in  great 
wrath,  "  excommunicato  vos." 

"  Thou  be'st  thyself  more  like  a  thief  and  a  heretic," 
said  the  Friar,  equally  indignant ;  "  I  will  pouch  up  no 
such  affront  before  my  parishioners,  as  thou  thinkest  it 
not  shame  to  put  upon  me,  although  I  be  a  reverend 
brother  to  thee.  Ossa  ejus  perfringam,  I  will  break  your 
bones,  as  the  Vulgate  hath  it." 

"  Hola ! "  cried  the  captain,  "  come  the  reverend  brethren 
to  such  terms  ?  —  Keep  thine  assurance  of  peace,  Friar. 
—  Prior,  an  thou  hast  not  made  thy  peace  perfect  with 
God,  provoke  the  Friar  no  further.  — -  Hermit,  let  the  rev- 
erend father  depart  in  peace,  as  a  ransomed  man." 

The  yeomen  separated  the  incensed  priests,  who  con- 
tinued to  raise  their  voices,  vituperating  each  other  in 
bad  Latin,  which  the  Prior  delivered  the  more  fluent]y, 
and  the  hermit  with  the  greater  vehemence.  The  Prior 
at  length  recollected  himself  sufficiently  to  be  aware  that 
he  was  compromising  his  dignity  by  squabbling  with  such 
a  hedge-priest  as  the  outlaw's  chaplain,  and  being  joined 
by  his  attendants,  rode  off  with  considerably  less  pomp, 
and  in  a  much  more  apostolical  condition,  so  far  as 
worldly  matters  were  concerned,  than  he  had  exhibited 
before  this  encounter. 

It  remained  that  the  Jew  should  produce  some  security 
for  the  ransom  which  he  was  to  pay  on  the  Prior's  ac- 
count, as  well  as  upon  his  own.  He  gave,  accordingly, 
an  order  sealed  with  his  signet,  to  a  brother  of  his  tribe 
at  York,  requiring  him  to  pay  to  the  bearer  the  sum  of 
a  thousand  crowns,  and  to  deliver  certain  merchandises 
specified  in  the  note. 

"  My  brother  Sheva,"  he  said,  groaning  deeply,  "  hath 
the  key  of  my  warehouses." 

"  And  of  the  vaulted  chamber,"  whispered  Locksley. 

"  jSTo,  no  —  may  Heaven  foref end  !  "  said  Isaac ;  "  evil 
is  the  hour  that  let  any  one  whomsoever  into  that 
secret ! " 

"It  is  safe  with  me,"  said  the  outlaw,  "  so  be  that  this 


360  IVANHOE. 

thy  scroll  produce  the  sum  therein  nominated  and  set 
down.  —  But  what  now,  Isaac  ?  art  dead  ?  art  stupefied  ? 
hath  the  payment  of  a  thousand  crowns  put  thy  daugh- 
ter's peril  out  of  thy  mind  ?  " 

The  Jew  started  to  his  feet :  "  No,  Diccon,  no  —  I  will 
presently  set  forth.  —  Farewell,  thou  whom  I  may  not  call 
good,  and  dare  not,  and  will  not,  call  evil." 

Yet,  ere  Isaac  departed,  the  outlaw  chief  bestowed  on 
him  this  parting  advice :  "  Be  liberal  of  thine  offers,  Isaac, 
and  spare  not  thy  purse  for  thy  daughter's  safety.  Credit 
me,  that  the  gold  thou  shalt  spare  in  her  cause  will  here- 
after give  thee  as  much  agony  as  if  it  were  poured  molten 
down  thy  throat." 

Isaac  acquiesced  with  a  deep  groan,  and  set  forth  on 
his  journey,  accompanied  by  two  tall  foresters,  who  were 
to  be  his  guides,  and  at  the  same  time  his  guards,  through 
the  wood. 

The  Black  Knight,  who  had  seen  with  no  small  inter- 
est these  various  proceedings,  now  took  his  leave  of  the 
outlaw  in  turn :  nor  could  he  avoid  expressing  his  surprise 
at  having  witnessed  so  much  of  civil  policy  amongst  per- 
sons cast  out  from  all  the  ordinary  protection  and  influ- 
ence of  the  laws. 

"  Good  fruit,  Sir  Knight,"  said  the  yeoman,  "  will  some- 
times grow  on  a  sorry  tree ;  and  evil  times  are  not  always 
productive  of  evil  alone  and  unmixed.  Amongst  those 
who  are  drawn  into  this  lawless  state,  there  are,  doubt- 
less, numbers  who  wish  to  exercise  its  license  with  some 
moderation,  and  some  who  regret,  it  may  be,  that  they 
are  obliged  to  follow  such  a  trade  at  all." 

"And  to  one  of  those,"  said  the  Knight,  "I  am  now,  I 
presume,  speaking  ?  " 

"  Sir  Knight,"  said  the  outlaw,  "  we  have  each  our  se- 
cret. You  are  welcome  to  form  your  judgment  of  me, 
and  I  may  use  my  conjectures  touching  you,  though  nei- 
ther of  our  shafts  may  hit  the  mark  they  are  shot  at. 
But  as  I  do  not  pray  to  be  admitted  into  your  mysterv, 
be  not  offended  that  I  preserve  my  own." 

"I  crave  pardon,  brave  outlaw,"  said  the  Knight,  "your 
reproof  is  just.     But  it  may  be  we  shall  meet  hereafter 


IVANHOE.  361 

with  less  of  concealment  on  either  side.  —  Meanwhile  we 
part  friends,  do  we  not  ?  " 

"  There  is  my  hand  upon  it,"  said  Locksley ;  "  and  I 
will  call  it  the  hand  of  a  true  Englishman,  though  an 
outlaw  for  the  present." 

"And  there  is  mine  in  return,"  said  the  Knight,  "and 
I  hold  it  honoured  by  being  clasped  with  yours.  For  he 
that  does  good,  having  the  unlimited  power  to  do  evil, 
deserves  praise  not  only  for  the  good  which  he  performs, 
but  for  the  evil  which  he  forbears.  Fare  thee  well,  gal- 
lant outlaw ! " 

Thus  parted  that  fair  fellowship  ;  and  he  of  the  Fetter- 
lock, mounting  upon  his  strong  war-horse,  rode  off  through 
the  forest. 

CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

King  John.     I'll  tell  thee  what,  my  friend, 
He  is  a  very  serpent  in  my  way  ; 
And  wheresoe'er  this  foot  of  mine  doth  tread, 
He  lies  before  me.     Dost  thou  understand  me  ? 

King  John. 

There  was  brave  feasting  in  the  Castle  of  York,  to 
which  Prince  John  had  invited  those  nobles,  prelates, 
and  leaders  by  whose  assistance  he  hoped  to  carry  through 
his  ambitious  projects  upon  his  brother's  throne.  Walde- 
mar  Fitzurse,  his  able  and  politic  agent,  was  at  secret  work 
among  them,  tempering  all  to  that  pitch  of  courage  which 
was  necessary  in  making  an  open  declaration  of  their  pur- 
pose. But  their  enterprise  was  delayed  by  the  absence 
of  more  than  one  main  limb  of  the  confederacy.  The 
stubborn  and  daring,  though  brutal,  courage  of  Front-de- 
Bceuf ;  the  buoyant  spirits  and  bold  bearing  of  De  Bracy ; 
the  sagacity,  martial  experience,  and  renowned  valour  of 
Brian  de  Bois-G-uilbert,  were  important  to  the  success  of 
their  conspiracy ;  and,  while  cursing  in  secret  their  un- 
necessary and  unmeaning  absence,  neither  John  nor  his 
adviser  dared  to  proceed  without  them.  Isaac  the  Jew 
also  seemed  to  have  vanished,  and  with  him  the  hope  of 
certain  sums  of  money,  making  up  the  subsidy  for  which 


362  IVANHOE. 

Prince  John  had  contracted  with  that  Israelite  and  his 
brethren.  This  deficiency  was  likely  to  prove  perilous  in 
an  emergency  so  critical. 

It  was  on  the  morning  after  the  fall  of  Torquilstone, 
that  a  confused  report  began  to  spread  abroad  in  the  city 
of  York  that  De  Bracy  and  Bois-Guilbert,  with  their 
confederate  Front-de-Boeuf,  had  been  taken  or  slain. 
Waldemar  brought  the  rumour  to  Prince  John,  announc- 
ing, that  he  feared  its  truth  the  more  that  they  had  set 
out  with  a  small  attendance,  for  the  purpose  of  commit- 
ting an  assault  on  the  Saxon  Cedric  and  his  attendants. 
At  another  time  the  Prince  would  have  treated  this  deed 
of  violence  as  a  good  jest ;  but  now  that  it  interfered 
with  and  impeded  his  own  plans,  he  exclaimed  against 
the  perpetrators,  and  spoke  of  the  broken  laws,  and  the 
infringement  of  public  order  and  of  private  property,  in 
a  tone  which  might  have  become  King  Alfred. 

"  The  unprincipled  marauders ! "  he  said ;  "  were  I  ever 
to  become  monarch  of  England,  I  would  hang  such  trans- 
gressors over  the  drawbridges  of  their  own  castles." 

"But  to  become  monarch  of  England,"  said  his  Ahitho- 
phel,  coolly,  "  it  is  necessary  not  only  that  your  Grace 
should  endure  the  transgressions  of  these  unprincipled 
marauders,  but  that  you  should  afford  them  your  protec- 
tion, notwithstanding  your  laudable  zeal  for  the  laws 
they  are  in  the  habit  of  infringing.  We  shall  be  finely 
helped,  if  the  churl  Saxons  should  have  realised  your 
Grace's  vision  of  converting  feudal  drawbridges  into 
gibbets ;  and  yonder  bold-spirited  Cedric  seemeth  one  to 
whom  such  an  imagination  might  occur.  Your  Grace  is 
well  aware,  it  will  be  dangerous  to  stir  without  Front-de- 
Boeuf,  De  Bracy,  and  the  Templar;  and  yet  we  have 
gone  too  far  to  recede  with  safety." 

Prince  John  struck  his  forehead  with  impatience,  and 
then  began  to  stride  up  and  down  the  apartment. 

"  The  villains,"  he  said,  "  the  base,  treacherous  villains, 
to  desert  me  at  this  pinch  ! " 

"Nay,  say  rather  the  feather-pated,  giddy  madmen," 
said  Waldemar,  "  who  must  be  toying  with  follies  when 
such  business  was  in  hand." 


IVAN  HOE.  363 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  "  said  the  Prince,  stopping  short 
before  Waldemar. 

"I  know  nothing  which  can  be  done,"  answered  his 
counsellor,  "  save  that  which  I  have  already  taken  order 
for.  —  I  came  not  to  bewail  this  evil  chance  with  youi 
Grace  until  I  had  done  my  best  to  remedy  it." 

"  Thou  art  ever  my  better  angel,  Waldemar,"  said  the 
Prince ;  "  and  when  I  have  such  a  chancellor  to  advise 
withal,  the  reign  of  John  will  be  renowned  in  our  annals. 

—  What  hast  thou  commanded  ?  " 

"I  have  ordered  Louis  Winkelbrand,  De  Bracy's  lieu- 
tenant, to  cause  his  trumpet  sound  to  horse,  and  to  dis- 
play his  banner,  and  to  set  presently  forth  towards  the 
castle  of  Front-de-Boeuf,  to  do  what  yet  may  be  done  for 
the  succour  of  our  friends." 

Prince  John's  face  flushed  with  the  pride  of  a  spoilt 
child,  who  has  undergone  what  it  conceives  to  be  an 
insult. 

"By  the  face  of  God!  "  he  said,  "Waldemar  Fitzurse, 
much  hast  thou  taken  upon  thee !  and  over-malapert 
thou  wert  to  cause  trumpet  to  blow,  or  banner  to  be 
raised,  in  a  town  where  ourselves  were  in  presence,  with- 
out our  express  command." 

"  I  crave  your  Grace's  pardon,"  said  Fitzurse,  inter- 
nally cursing  the  idle  vanity  of  his  patron ;  "  but  when 
time  pressed,  and  even  the  loss  of  minutes  might  be 
fatal,  I  judged  it  best  to  take  this  much  burden  upon 
me,  in  a  matter  of  such  importance  to  your  Grace's 
interest." 

"  Thou  art  pardoned,  Fitzurse,"  said  the  Prince,  gravely ; 
"  thy  purpose  hath  atoned  for  thy  hasty  rashness.  —  But 
whom  have  we  here  ?  —  De  Bracv  himself,  by  the  rood ! 

—  and  in  strange  guise  doth  he  come  before  us." 

It  was  indeed  De  Bracy,  "  blood}'  with  spurring,  fiery 
red  with  speed."  His  armour  bore  all  the  marks  of  the 
late  obstinate  fray,  being  broken,  defaced,  and  stained 
with  blood  in  many  places,  and  covered  with  clay  and 
dust  from  the  crest  to  the  spur.  Undoing  his  helmet,  he 
placed  it  on  the  table,  and  stood  a  moment  as  if  to  col- 
lect himself  before  he  told  his  news. 


364  IVANHOE. 

"  De  Bracy,"  said  Prince  John,  "  what  means  this  ?  — 
Speak,  I  charge  thee  !  —  Are  the  Saxons  in  rebellion  ?  " 

"  Speak,  De  Bracy,"  said  Fitzurse,  almost  in  the  same 
moment  with  his  master,  "  thou  wert  wont  to  be  a  man. 
—  Where  is  the  Templar  ?  —  where  Front-de-Boeuf  ?  " 

"  The  Templar  is  fled,"  said  De  Bracy ;  "  Front-de- 
Boeuf  you  will  never  see  more.  He  has  found  a  red 
grave  among  the  blazing  rafters  of  his  own  castle,  and  I 
alone  am  escaped  to  tell  you." 

"Cold  news,"  said  Waldemar,  "to  us,  though  you 
speak  of  fire  and  conflagration." 

"  The  worst  news  is  not  yet  said,"  answered  De  Bracy ; 
and,  coming  up  to  Prince  John,  he  uttered  in  a  low  and 
emphatic  tone :  "  Richard  is  in  England  —  1  have  seen 
and  spoken  with  him." 

Prince  John  turned  pale,  tottered,  and  caught  at  the 
back  of  an  oaken  bench  to  support  himself,  much  like  to 
a  man  who  receives  an  arrow  in  his  bosom. 

"Thou  ravest,  De  Bracy,"  said  Fitzurse,  "it  cannot 
be." 

"  It  is  as  true  as  truth  itself,"  said  De  Bracy ;  "  I  was 
his  prisoner,  and  spoke  with  him." 

"  With  Richard  Plantagenet,  sayest  thou  ?  "  continued 
Fitzurse. 

"  With  Richard  Plantagenet,"  replied  De  Bracy  — 
"with  Richard  Coeur-de-Lion  —  with  Richard  of  Eng- 
land." 

"  And  thou  wert  his  prisoner  ?  "  said  Waldemar ;  "  he 
is  then  at  the  head  of  a  power  ?  " 

"No;  only  a  few  outlawed  yeomen  were  around  him, 
and  to  these  his  person  is  unknown.  I  heard  him  say  he 
was  about  to  depart  from  them.  He  joined  them  only  to 
assist  at  the  storming  of  Torquilstone." 

"  Ay,"  said  Fitzurse,  "  such  is  indeed  the  fashion  of 
Richard  —  a  true  knight-errant  he,  and  will  wander  in 
wild  adventure,  trusting  the  prowess  of  his  single  arm, 
like  any  Sir  Guy  or  Sir  Be  vis,  while  the  weighty  affairs 
of  his  kingdom  slumber,  and  his  own  safety  is  endan- 
gered. —  What  dost  thou  propose  to  do,  De  Bracy  ?  " 

"  I  ?    I  offered  Richard  the  service  of  my  Free  Lances, 


IVANHOE.  365 

and  he  refused  them.  I  will  lead  them  to  Hull,  seize  on 
shipping,  and  embark  for  Flanders ;  thanks  to  the  bus- 
tling times,  a  man  of  action  will  always  find  employment. 
And  thou,  Waldemar,  wilt  thou  take  lance  and  shield, 
and  lay  down  thy  policies,  and  wend  along  with  me,  and 
share  the  fate  which  God  sends  us  ?  " 

"I  am  too  old,  Maurice,  and  I  have  a  daughter,"  an- 
swered Waldemar. 

"  Give  her  to  me,  Fitzurse,  and  I  will  maintain  her  as 
fits  her  rank,  with  the  help  of  lance  and  stirrup,"  said 
De  Bracy. 

"  Not  so,"  answered  Fitzurse ;  "  I  will  take  sanctuary 
in  this  church  of  St.  Peter  —  the  Archbishop  is  my  sworn 
brother." 

During  this  discourse,  Prince  John  had  gradually 
awakened  from  the  stupor  into  which  he  had  been 
thrown  by  the  unexpected  intelligence,  and  had  been  at- 
tentive to  the  conversation  which  passed  betwixt  his  fol- 
lowers. "They  fall  off  from  me,"  he  said  to  himself; 
"  they  hold  no  more  by  me  than  a  withered  leaf  by  the 
bough  when  a  breeze  blows  on.  it !  —  Hell  and  fiends !  can 
I  shape  no  means  for  myself  when  I  am  deserted  by 
these  cravens  ?  "  —  He  paused,  and  there  was  an  expres- 
sion of  diabolical  passion  in  the  constrained  laugh  with 
which  he  at  length  broke  in  on  their  conversation. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  my  good  lords,  by  the  light  of  Our 
Lady's  brow,  I  held  ye  sage  men,  bold  men,  ready-witted 
men,  loving  things  which  are  costly  to  come  by ;  jet  ye 
throw  down  wealth,  honour,  pleasure,  all  that  our  noble 
game  promised  you,  at  the  moment  it  might  be  won  by 
one  bold  cast ! " 

"I  understand  you  not,"  said  De  Bracy.  "As  soon  as 
Richard's  return  is  blown  abroad,  he  will  be  at  the  head 
of  an  army,  and  all  is  then  over  with  us.  I  would  coun- 
sel you,  my  lord,  either  to  fly  to  France  or  take  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Queen  Mother." 

"I  seek  no  safety  for  myself,"  said  Prince  John, 
haughtily ;  "that  I  could  secure  by  a  word  spoken  to  my 
brother.  But  although  you,  De  Bracy,  and  you,  Walde- 
mar Fitzurse,  are  so  ready  to  abandon  me,  I  should  not 


366  IVANHOE. 

greatly  delight  to  see  your  heads  blackening  on  Clifford's 
Gate  yonder.  Thinkest  thou,  Waldemar,  that  the  wily 
Archbishop  will  not  suffer  thee  to  be  taken  from  the 
very  horns  of  the  altar,  would  it  make  his  peace  with 
King  Richard  ?  And  forgettest  thou,  De  Bracy,  that 
Robert  Estoteville  lies  betwixt  thee  and  Hull  with  all  his 
forces,  and  that  the  Earl  of  Essex  is  gathering  his  fol- 
lowers ?  If  we  had  reason  to  fear  these  levies  even 
before  Richard's  return,  trowest  thou  there  is  any  doubt 
now  which  party  their  leaders  will  take  ?  Trust  me, 
Estoteville  alone  has  strength  enough  to  drive  all  thy 
Free  Lances  into  the  Humber."  Waldemar  Eitzurse  and 
De  Bracy  looked  in  each  other's  faces  with  blank  dis- 
may. "  There  is  but  one  road  to  safety,"  continued  the 
Prince,  and  his  brow  grew  black  as  midnight :  "  this 
object  of  our  terror  journeys  alone  —  he  must  be  met 
withal." 

"  Not  by  me,"  said  De  Bracy,  hastily ;  "  I  was  his  pris- 
oner, and  he  took  me  to  mercy.  I  will  not  harm  a  feather 
in  his  crest." 

"  Who  spoke  of  harming  him  ? "  said  Prince  John, 
with  a  hardened  laugh ;  "  the  knave  will  say  next  that  I 
meant  he  should  slay  him  !  No  —  a  prison  were  better ; 
and  whether  in  Britain  or  Austria,  what  matters  it  ? 
Things  will  be  but  as  they  were  when  we  commenced  our 
enterprise  —  it  was  founded  on  the  hope  that  Richard 
would  remain  a  captive  in  Germany.  Our  uncle  Robert 
lived  and  died  in  the  castle  of  Cardiff." 

"Ay,  but,"  said  Waldemar,  "your  sire  Henry  sate 
more  firm  in  his  seat  than  your  Grace  can.  I  say  the 
best  prison  is  that  which  is  made  by  the  sexton  —  no 
dungeon  like  a  church-vault !     I  have  said  my  say." 

"  Prison  or  tomb,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  I  wash  my  hands 
of  the  whole  matter." 

"  Villain ! "  said  Prince  John,  "  thou  wouldst  not  be- 
wray our  counsel  ?  " 

"  Counsel  was  never  bewrayed  by  me,"  said  De  Bracy, 
haughtily,  "nor  must  the  name  of  villain  be  coupled 
with  mine ! " 

"  Peace,  Sir  Knight !  "  said  Waldemar ;  "  and  you,  good 


IVANHOE.  367 

my  lord,  forgive  the  scruples  of  valiant  De  Bracy;  I 
trust  I  shall  soon  remove  them." 

"That  passes  your  eloquence,  Fitzurse,"  replied  the 
knight. 

"Why,  good  Sir  Maurice,"  rejoined  the  wily  politician, 
"start  not  aside  like  a  scared  steed,  without,  at  least, 
considering  the  object  of  your  terror.  This  Richard  — 
but  a  day  since,  and  it  would  have  been  thy  dearest  wish 
to  have  met  him  hand  to  hand  in  the  ranks  of  battle  — 
a  hundred  times  I  have  heard  thee  wish  it." 

"  Ay,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  but  that  was,  as  thou  sayest, 
hand  to  hand,  and  in  the  ranks  of  battle !  Thou  never 
heardest  me  breathe  a  thought  of  assaulting  him  alone, 
and  in  a  forest." 

"  Thou  art  no  good  knight  if  thou  dost  scruple  at  it," 
said  Waldemar.  "  Was  it  in  battle  that  Lancelot  de  Lac 
and  Sir  Tristram  won  renown  ?  or  was  it  not  by  encoun- 
tering gigantic  knights  under  the  shade  of  deep  and  un- 
known forests  ? " 

"  Ay,  but  I  promise  you,"  said  De  Bracy,  "  that  neither 
Tristram  nor  Lancelot  would  have  been  match,  hand  to 
hand,  for  Richard  Plantagenet,  and  I  think  it  was  not 
their  wont  to  take  odds  against  a  single  man." 

"  Thou  art  mad,  De  Bracy  —  what  is  it  we  propose  to 
thee,  a  hired  and  retained  captain  of  Free  Companions, 
whose  swords  are  purchased  for  Prince  John's  service  ? 
Thou  art  apprised  of  our  enemy,  and  then  thou  scruplest, 
though  thy  patron's  fortunes,  those  of  thy  comrades, 
thine  own,  and  the  life  and  honour  of  every  one  amongst 
us,  be  at  stake !  " 

"I  tell  you,"  said  De  Bracy,  sullenly,  "that  he  gave 
me  my  life.  True,  he  sent  me  from  his  presence,  and 
refused  my  homage  —  so  far  I  owe  him  neither  favour  nor 
allegiance  —  but  I  will  not  lift  hand  against  him." 

"  It  needs  not  —  send  Louis  Winkelbrand  and  a  score 
of  thy  lances." 

"  Ye  have  sufficient  ruffians  of  your  own,"  said  De 
Bracy;  "not  one  of  mine  shall  budge  on  such  an 
errand." 

"  Art  thou  so  obstinate,  De  Bracy  ?  "  said  Prince  John  ; 


368  IVANHOE. 


"  and  wilt  thou  forsake  me,  after  so  many  protestations 
of  zeal  for  my  service  ?  " 

"  I  mean  it  not,"  said  De  Bracy  ;  "  I  will  abide  by  you 
in  aught  that  becomes  a  knight,  whether  in  the  lists  or  in 
the  camp ;  but  this  highway  practice  comes  not  within 
my  vow." 

"  Come  hither,  Waldemar,"  said  Prince  John.  "  An 
unhappy  prince  am  I.  My  father,  King  Henry,  had 
faithful  servants.  —  He  had  but  to  say  that  he  was 
plagued  with  a  factious  priest,  and  the  blood  of  Thomas- 
a-Becket,  saint  though  he  was,  stained  the  steps  of  his 
own  altar.  Tracy,  Morville,  Brito,  loyal  and  daring  sub- 
jects, your  names,  your  spirit,  are  extinct !  and  although 
Reginald  Fitzurse  hath  left  a  son,  he  hath  fallen  off  from 
his  father's  fidelity  and  courage." 

"He  has  fallen  off  from  neither,"  said  Waldemar 
Fitzurse ;  "  and  since  it  may  not  better  be,  I  will  take  on 
me  the  conduct  of  this  perilous  enterprise.  Dearly,  how- 
ever, did  my  father  purchase  the  praise  of  a  zealous 
friend;  and  yet  did  his  proof  of  loyalty  to  Henry  fall  far 
short  of  what  I  am  about  to  afford  ;  for  rather  would  I 
assail  a  whole  calendar  of  saints  than  put  spear  in  rest 
against  Coeur-de-Lion.  —  De  Bracy,  to  thee  I  must  trust 
to  keep  up  the  spirits  of  the  doubtful,  and  to  guard 
Prince  John's  person.  If  you  receive  such  news  as 
I  trust  to  send  you,  our  enterprise  will  no  longer  wear  a 
doubtful  aspect.  —  Page,"  he  said,  "  hie  to  my  lodgings, 
and  tell  my  armourer  to,  be  there  in  readiness ;  and  bid 
Stephen  Wetheral,  Broad  Thoresby,  and  the  Three  Spears 
of  Spyinghow  come  to  me  instantly ;  and  let  the  scout- 
master, Hugh  Bardon,  attend  me  also.  —  Adieu,  my  Prince, 
till  better  times."     Thus  speaking,  he  left  the  apartment. 

"  He  goes  to  make  my  brother  prisoner,"  said  Prince 
John  to  De  Bracy,  "  with  as  little  touch  of  compunction 
as  if  it  but  concerned  the  liberty  of  a  Saxon  franklin.  I 
trust  he  will  observe  our  orders,  and  use  our  dear 
Richard's  person  with  all  due  respect." 

De  Bracy  only  answered  by  a  smile. 

"  By  the  light  of  Our  Lady's  brow,"  said  Prince  John, 
"  our  orders  to  him  were  most  precise  —  though  it  may  be 


IVANHOE.  369 

you  heard  them  not,  as  we  stood  together  in  the  oriel 
window.  —  Most  clear  and  positive  was  our  charge  that 
Richard's  safety  should  be  cared  for,  and  woe  to  Walde- 
mar's  head  if  he  transgress  it !  " 

"  I  had  better  pass  to  his  lodgings,"  said  De  Bracy, 
"  and  make  him  fully  aware  of  your  Grace's  pleasure ; 
for,  as  it  quite  escaped  my  ear,  it  may  not  perchance  have 
reached  that  of  Waldemar." 

"  Nay,  nay,"  said  Prince  John,  impatiently,  "  I  promise 
thee  he  heard  me ;  and,  besides,  I  have  farther  occupa- 
tion for  thee.  Maurice,  come  hither ;  let  me  lean  on  thy 
shoulder." 

They  walked  a  turn  through  the  hall  in  this  familiar 
posture,  and  Prince  John,  with  an  air  of  the  most  confi- 
dential intimacy,  proceeded  to  say  :  "  What  thinkest  thou 
of  this  Waldemar  Fitzurse,  my  De  Bracy  ?  —  He  trusts 
to  be  our  Chancellor.  Surely  we  will  pause  ere  we  give 
an  office  so  high  to  one  who  shows  evidently  how  little 
he  reverences  our  blood,  by  his  so  readily  undertaking 
this  enterprise  against  Bichard.  Thou  dost  think,  I 
warrant,  that  thou  hast  lost  somewrhat  of  our  regard  by 
thy  boldly  declining  this  unpleasant  task.  —  But  no, 
Maurice !  I  rather  honour  thee  for  thy  virtuous  con- 
stancy. There  are  things  most  necessary  to  be  done,  the 
perpetrator  of  which  we  neither  love  nor  honour;  and 
there  may  be  refusals  to  serve  us  which  shall  rather 
exalt  in  our  estimation  those  who  deny  our  request. 
The  arrest  of  my  unfortunate  brother  forms  no  such  good 
title  to  the  high  office  of  Chancellor  as  thy  chivalrous 
and  courageous  denial  establishes  in  thee  to  the  truncheon 
of  High  Marshal.  Think  of  this,  De  Bracy,  and  begone 
to  thy  charge." 

"  Fickle  tyrant ! "  muttered  De  Bracy,  as  he  left  the 
presence  of  the  Prince;  "evil  luck  have  they  who  trust 
thee. —  Thy  Chancellor,  indeed  !  He  wrho  hath  the  keep- 
ing of  thy  conscience  shall  have  an  easy  charge,  I  trow. 
But  High  Marshal  of  England !  that,"  he  said,  extending 
his  arm,  as  if  to  grasp  the  baton  of  office,  and  assuming  a 
loftier  stride  along  the  ante-chamber,  "  that  is  indeed 
a  prize  worth  playing  for!" 
2b 


370  IVANHOE. 

De  Bracy  had  no  sooner  left  the  apartment  than  Prince 
John  summoned  an  attendant. 

"Bid  Hugh  Bardon,  our  scout-master,  come  hither,  as 
soon  as  he  shall  have  spoken  with  Waldemar  Fitzurse." 

The  scout-master  arrived  after  a  brief  delay,  during 
which  John  traversed  the  apartment  with  unequal  and 
disordered  steps. 

"Bardon,"  said  he,  "what  did  Waldemar  desire  of 
thee  ?  " 

"  Two  resolute  men,  well  acquainted  with  these  northern 
wilds,  and  skilful  in  tracking  the  tread  of  man  and 
horse." 

"  And  thou  hast  fitted  him  ?  " 

"Let  your  Grace  never  trust  me  else,"  answered  the 
master  of  the  spies.  "  One  is  from  Hexhamshire ;  he  is 
wont  to  trace  the  Tynedale  and  Teviotdale  thieves,  as 
a  bloodhound  follows  the  slot  of  a  hurt  deer.  The  other 
is  Yorkshire  bred,  and  has  twanged  his  bowstring  right 
oft  in  merry  Sherwood  ;  he  knows  each  glade  and  dingle, 
copse  and  high-wood,  betwixt  this  and  Richmond." 

"  'Tis  well,"  said  the  Prince.  "  Goes  Waldemar  forth 
with  them  ?  " 

"Instantly,"  said  Bardon. 

"  With  what  attendance  ?  "  asked  John,  carelessly. 

"Broad  Thoresby  goes  with  him,  and  Wetheral,  whom 
they  call,  for  his  cruelty,  Stephen  Steel-Heart;  and 
three  northern  men-at-arms  that  belonged  to  Ralph 
Middleton's  gang;  they, are  called  the  Spears  of  Spying- 
how." 

"  'Tis  well,"  said  Prince  John ;  then  added,  after  a 
moment's  pause :  "  Bardon,  it  imports  our  service  that 
thou  keep  a  strict  watch  on  Maurice  de  Bracy,  so  that  he 
shall  not  observe  it,  however.  And  let  us  know  of  his 
motions  from  time  to  time,  with  whom  he  converses, 
what  he  proposeth.  Fail  not  in  this,  as  thou  wilt  be 
answerable." 

Hugh  Bardon  bowed  and  retired. 

"  If  Maurice  betrays  me,"  said  Prince  John  —  "  if  he 
betrays  me,  as  his  bearing  leads  me  to  fear,  I  will  have 
his  head,  were  Richard  thundering  at  the  gates  of  York." 


IVANHOE,  371 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Arouse  the  tiger  of  Hyrcauian  deserts, 
Strive  with  the  half-starved  lion  for  his  prey  ; 
Lesser  the  risk,  than  rouse  the  slumbering  fire 
Of  wild  fanaticism. 

Anonymous. 

Our  tale  now  returns  to  Isaac  of  York.  Mounted 
upon  a  mule,  the  gift  of  the  outlaw,  with  two  tall  yeomen 
to  act  as  his  guard  and  guides,  the  Jew  had  set  out  for 
the  Preceptory  of  Templestowe,  for  the  purpose  of  nego- 
tiating his  daughter's  redemption.  The  Preceptory  was 
but  a  day's  journey  from  the  demolished  castle  of  Tor- 
quilstone,  and  the  Jew  had  hoped  to  reach  it  before 
nightfall ;  accordingly,  having  dismissed  his  guides  at  the 
verge  of  the  forest,  and  rewarded  them  with  a  piece 
of  silver,  he  began  to  press  on  with  such  speed  as  his 
weariness  permitted  him  to  exert.  But  his  strength 
failed  him  totally  ere  he  had  reached  within  four  miles 
of  the  Temple  Court ;  racking  pains  shot  along  his  back 
and  through  his  limbs,  and  the  excessive  anguish  which 
he  felt  at  heart  being  now  augmented  by  bodily  suffering, 
he  was  rendered  altogether  incapable  of  proceeding 
farther  than  a  small  market-town,  wrhere  dwrelt  a  Jewish 
Rabbi  of  his  tribe,  eminent  in  the  medical  profession,  and 
to  whom  Isaac  was  well  known.  Nathan  ben  Israel  re- 
ceived his  suffering  countryman  with  that  kindness 
which  the  law  prescribed,  and  which  the  Jews  practised 
to  each  other.  He  insisted  on  his  betaking  himself 
to  repose,  and  used  such  remedies  as  were  then  in  most 
repute  to  check  the  progress  of  the  fever  which  terror, 
fatigue,  ill-usage,  and  sorrow  had  brought  upon  the  poor 
old  Jew. 

On  the  morrow,  when  Isaac  proposed  to  arise  and 
pursue  his  journey,  Nathan  remonstrated  against  his 
purpose,  both  as  his  host  and  as  his  physician.  It  might 
cost  him,  he  said,  his  life.  But  Isaac  replied,  that 
more  than  life  and  death  depended  upon  his  going  that 
morning  to  Templestowe. 


372  IVANHOE. 

"To  Templestowe ! "  said  his  host  with  surprise;  again 
felt  his  pulse,  and  then  muttered  to  himself,  "  His  fever 
is  abated,  yet  seems  his  mind  somewhat  alienated  and 
disturbed." 

"  And  why  not  to  Templestowe  ? "  answered  the  pa- 
tient. "I  grant  thee,  Nathan,  that  it  is  a  dwelling  of 
those  to  whom  the  despised  Children  of  the  Promise  are 
a  stumbling-block  and  an  abomination ;  yet  thou  know- 
est  that  pressing  affairs  of  traffic  sometimes  carry  us 
among  these  bloodthirsty  Nazarene  soldiers,  and  that  we 
visit  the  Preceptories  of  the  Templars,  as  well  as  the 
Commanderies  of  the  Knights  Hospitallers,  as  they  are 
called." 

"  I  know  it  well,"  said  Nathan ;  "  but  wottest  thou  that 
Lucas  de  Beaumanoir,  the  chief  of  their  Order,  and  whom 
they  term  Grand  Master,  is  now  himself  at  Temple- 
stowe ?  " 

"  I  know  it  not,"  said  Isaac ;  "  our  last  letters  from  our 
brethren  at  Paris  avised  us  that  he  was  at  that  city,  be- 
seeching Philip  for  aid  against  the  Sultan  Saladine." 

"  He  hath  since  come  to  England,  unexpected  by  his 
brethren,"  said  Ben  Israel ;  "and  he  cometh  among  them 
with  a  strong  and  outstretched  arm  to  correct  and  to 
punish.  His  countenance  is  kindled  in  anger  against 
those  who  have  departed  from  the  vow  which  they  have 
made,  and  great  is  the  fear  of  those  sons  of  Belial.  Thou 
must  have  heard  of  his  name  ?  " 

"  It  is  well  known  unto  me,"  said  Isaac :  "  the  Gentiles 
deliver  this  Lucas  Beaumanoir  as  a  man  zealous  to  slay- 
ing for  every  point  of  the  Nazarene  law ;  and  our  brethren 
have  termed  him  a  fierce  destroyer  of  the  Saracens,  and 
a  cruel  tyrant  to  the  Children  of  the  Promise." 

"  And  truly  have  they  termed  him,"  said  Nathan  the 
physician.  "Other  Templars  may  be  moved  from  the 
purpose  of  their  heart  by  pleasure,  or  bribed  by  promise 
of  gold  and  silver  ;  but  Beaumanoir  is  of  a  different 
stamp  —  hating  sensuality,  despising  treasure,  and  press- 
ing forward  to  that  which  they  call  the  crown  of  martyr- 
dom—  the  God  of  Jacob  speedily  send  it  unto  him.  and 
unto  them  all !     Specially  hath  this  proud,  man  extended 


IVAN-HOE.  373 

his  glove  over  the  children  of  Judah,  as  holy  David  over 
Edom,  holding  the  murder  of  a  Jew  to  be  an  offering  of 
as  sweet  savour  as  the  death  of  a  Saracen.  Impious  and 
false  things  has  he  said  even  of  the  virtues  of  our  medi- 
cines, as  if  they  were  the  devices  of  Satan  —  the  Lord 
rebuke  him ! " 

"  Nevertheless,"  said  Isaac,  "  I  must  present  myself  at 
Templestowe,  though  he  hath  made  his  face  like  unto  a 
fiery  furnace  seven  times  heated." 

He  then  explained  to  Nathan  the  pressing  cause  of  his 
journey.  The  Rabbi  listened  with  interest,  and  testified 
his  sympathy  after  the  fashion  of  his  people,  rending  his 
clothes  and  saying,  "Ah,  my  daughter  !  —  ah,  my  daugh- 
ter !  —  Alas  !  for  the  beauty  of  Zion  !  —  Alas  !  for  the 
captivity  of  Israel !  " 

"Thou  seest,"  said  Isaac,  "how  it  stands  with  me,  and 
that  I  may  not  tarry.  Peradventure,  the  presence  of  this 
Lucas  Beaumanoir,  being  the  chief  man  over  them,  may 
turn  Brian  de  Bois-G-uilbert  from  the  ill  which  he  doth 
meditate,  and  that  he  may  deliver  to  me  my  beloved 
daughter  Eebecca." 

"  Go  thou,"  said  Nathan  ben  Israel,  "  and  be  wise,  for 
wisdom  availed  Daniel  in  the  den  of  lions  into  which  he 
was  cast ;  and  may  it  go  well  with  thee,  even  as  thine 
heart  wisheth.  Yet,  if  thou  canst,  keep  thee  from  the 
presence  of  the  Grand  Master,  for  to  do  foul  scorn  to  our 
people  is  his  morning  and  evening  delight.  It  may  be, 
if  thou  couldst  speak  with  Bois-Guilbert  in  private,  thou 
shalt  the  better  prevail  with  him ;  for  men  say  that  these 
accursed  Nazarenes  are  not  of  one  mind  in  the  Preceptory 
—  may  their  counsels  be  confounded  and  brought  to 
shame !  But  do  thou,  brother,  return  to  me  as  if  it  were 
to  the  house  of  thy  father,  and  bring  me  word  how  it  has 
sped  with  thee ;  and  well  do  I  hope  thou  wilt  bring  with 
thee  Rebecca,  even  the  scholar  of  the  wise  Miriam,  whose 
cures  the  Gentiles  slandered  as  if  they  had  been  wrought 
by  necromancy." 

Isaac  accordingly  bade  his  friend  farewell,  and  about 
an  hour's  riding  brought  him  before  the  Preceptory  of 
Templestowe. 


374  IVANHOE. 

This  establishment  of  the  Templars  was  seated  amidst 
fair  meadows  and  pastures,  which  the  devotion  of  the 
former  Preceptor  had  bestowed  upon  their  Order.  It  was 
strong  and  well  fortified,  a  point  never  neglected  by 
these  knights,  and  which  the  disordered  state  of  England 
rendered  peculiarly  necessary.  Two  halberdiers,  clad  in 
black,  guarded  the  drawbridge,  and  others,  in  the  same 
sad  livery,  glided  to  and  fro  upon  the  walls  with  a  fune- 
real pace,  resembling  spectres  more  than  soldiers.  The 
inferior  officers  of  the  Order  were  thus  dressed,  ever  since 
their  use  of  white  garments,  similar  to  those  of  the 
knights  and  esquires,  had  given  rise  to  a  combination  of 
certain  false  brethren  in  the  mountains  of  Palestine, 
terming  themselves  Templars,  and  bringing  great  dis- 
honour on  the  Order.  A  knight  was  now  and  then  seen 
to  cross  the  court  in  his  long  white  cloak,  his  head  de- 
pressed on  his  breast,  and  his  arms  folded.  They  passed 
each  other,  if  they  chanced  to  meet,  with  a  slow,  solemn, 
and  mute  greeting ;  for  such  was  the  rule  of  their  Order, 
quoting  thereupon  the  holy  texts,  "  In  many  words  thou 
shalt  not  avoid  .sin,"  and  "Life  and  death  are  in  the 
power  of  the  tongue."  In  a  word,  the  stern,  ascetic 
rigour  of  the  Temple  discipline,  which  had  been  so 
long  exchanged  for  prodigal  and  licentious  indulgence, 
seemed  at  once  to  have  revived  at  Templestowe  under 
the  severe  eye  of  Lucas  Beaumanoir. 

Isaac  paused  at  the  gate,  to  consider  how  he  might 
seek  entrance  in  the  manner  most  likely  to  bespeak 
favour ;  for  he  was  well  aware  that  to  his  unhappy  race 
t:\e  reviving  fanaticism  of  the  Order  was  not  less  danger- 
ous than  their  unprincipled  licentiousness ;  and  that  his 
religion  would  be  the  object  of  hate  and  persecution  in 
the  one  case,  as  his  wealth  would  have  exposed  him  in 
the  other  to  the  extortions  of  unrelenting  oppression. 

Meantime,  Lucas  Beaumanoir  walked  in  a  small  garden 
belonging  to  the  Preceptory,  included  within  the  precincts 
of  its  exterior  fortification,  and  held  sad  and  confidential 
communication  with  a  brother  of  his  Order,  who  had 
come  in  his  company  from  Palestine. 


IVANHOE.  375 

The  Grand  Master  was  a  man  advanced  in  age,  as  was 
testified  by  his  long  grey  beard,  and  the  shaggy  grey  eye- 
brows, overhanging  eyes  of  which,  however,  years  had 
been  unable  to  quench  the  tire.  A  formidable  warrior, 
his  thin  and  severe  features  retained  the  soldier's  fierce- 
ness of  expression;  an  ascetic  bigot,  they  were  no  less 
marked  by  the  emaciation  of  abstinence,  and  the  spiritual 
pride  of  the  self-satisfied  devotee.  Yet  with  these  se- 
verer traits  of  physiognomy,  there  was  mixed  somewhat 
striking  and  noble,  arising,  doubtless,  from  the  great 
part  which  his  high  office  called  upon  him  to  act  among 
monarchs  and  princes,  and  from  the  habitual  exercise  of 
supreme  authority  over  the  valiant  and  high-born  knights 
who  were  united  by  the  rules  of  the  Order.  His  stature 
was  tall,  and  his  gait,  undepressed  by  age  and  toil,  was 
erect  and  stately.  His  white  mantle  was  shaped  with 
severe  regularity,  according  to  the  rule  of  St.  Bernard 
himself,  being  composed  of  what  was  then  called  burrel 
cloth,  exactly  fitted  to  the  size  of  the  wearer,  and  bearing 
on  the  left  shoulder  the  octangular  cross  peculiar  to  the 
Order,  formed  of  red  cloth.  No  vair  or  ermine  decked 
this  garment ;  but  in  respect  of  his  age,  the  Grand  Mas- 
ter, as  permitted  by  the  rules,  wore  his  doublet  lined  and 
trimmed  with  the  softest  lambskin,  dressed  with  the 
wool  outwards,  which  was  the  nearest  approach  he  could 
regularly  make  to  the  use  of  fur,  then  the  greatest  luxury 
of  dress.  In  his  hand  he  bore  that  singular  abacus,  or 
staff  of  office,  with  which  Templars  are  usually  repre- 
sented, having  at  the  upper  end  a  round  plate,  on  which 
was  engraved  the  cross  of  the  Order,  inscribed  within  a 
circle  or  orle,  as  heralds  term  it.  His  companion,  who 
attended  on  this  great  personage,  had  nearly  the  same 
dress  in  all  respects,  but  his  extreme  deference  toward 
his  superior  showed  that  no  other  equality  subsisted  be- 
tween them.  The  Preceptor,  for  such  he  was  in  rank, 
walked  not  in  a  line  with  the  Grand  Master,  but  just  so 
far  behind  that  Beaumanoir  could  speak  to  him  without 
turning  round  his  head. 

"  Conrade,"  said  the  Grand  Master,  "  dear  companion 
of  my  battles  and  my  toils,  to  thy  faithful  bosom  alone  ] 


376  IVANUOE. 

can  confide  my  sorrows.  To  thee  alone  can  I  tell  how 
oft,  since  I  came  to  this  kingdom,  I  have  desired  to  be 
dissolved  and  to  be  with  the  just.  Not  one  object  in 
England  hath  met  mine  eye  which  it  could  rest  upon 
with  pleasure,  save  the  tombs  of  our  brethren,  beneath 
the  massive  roof  of  our  Temple  Church  in  yonder  proud 
capital.  '  0  valiant  Robert  de  Ros ! '  did  I  exclaim  in 
ternally,  as  I  gazed  upon  these  good  soldiers  of  the  Cross, 
where  they  lie  sculptured  on  their  sepulchres  — '  0  worthy 
William  de  Mareschal !  open  your  marble  cells,  and  take 
to  your  repose  a  weary  brother,  who  would  rather  strive 
with  a  hundred  thousand  pagans  than  witness  the  decay 
of  our  Holy  Order.'  " 

"  It  is  but  true,"  answered  Conrade  Mont-Fitchet,  "  it 
is  but  too  true ;  and  the  irregularities  of  our  brethren  in 
England  are  even  more  gross  than  those  in  France." 

"  Because  they  are  more  wealthy,"  answered  the  Grand 
Master.  "  Bear  with  me,  brother,  although  I  should  some- 
thing vaunt  myself.  Thou  knowest  the  life  I  have  led, 
keeping  each  point  of  my  Order,  striving  with  devils  em- 
bodied and  disembodied,  striking  down  the  roaring  lion, 
who  goeth  about  seeking  whom  he  may  devour,  like  a 
good  knight  and  devout  priest,  wheresoever  I  met  with 
him  —  even  as  blessed  St.  Bernard  hath  prescribed  to  us 
in  the  forty-fifth  capital  of  our  rule,  Ut  leo  semper  feriatur. 
But,  by  the  Holy  Temple !  the  zeal  which  hath  devoured 
my  substance  and  my  life,  yea,  the  very  nerves  and  mar- 
row of  my  bones  —  by  that  very  Holy  Temple  I  swear  to 
thee,  that  save  thyself  and  some  few  that  still  retain  the 
ancient  severity  of  our  Order,  I  look  upon  no  brethren 
whom  I  can  bring  my  soul  to  embrace  under  that  holy 
name.  What  say  our  statutes,  and  how  do  our  brethren 
observe  them  ?  They  should  wear  no  vain  or  worldly 
ornament,  no  crest  upon  their  helmet,  no  gold  upon  stirrup 
or  bridle-bit ;  yet  who  now  go  pranked  out  so  proudly  and 
so  gaily  as  the  poor  soldiers  of  the  Temple  ?  They  are 
forbidden  by  our  statutes  to  take  one  bird  by  means  of 
another,  to  shoot  beasts  with  bow  or  arblast,  to  halloo  to 
a  hunting-horn,  or  to  spur  the  horse  after  game ;  but  now, 
at  hunting  and  hawking,  and  each  idle  sport  of  wood  and 


IVANHOE.  377 

river,  who  so  prompt  as  the  Templars  in  all  these  fond 
vanities  ?  They  are  forbidden  to  read,  save  what  their 
superior  permitted,  or  listen  to  what  is  read,  save  such 
holy  things  as  may  be  recited  aloud  during  the  hours  of 
refection ;  but  lo !  their  hearts  are  at  the  command  of 
idle  minstrels,  and  their  eyes  study  empty  romaunts. 
They  were  commanded  to  extirpate  magic  and  heresy; 
lo !  they  are  charged  with  studying  the  accursed  caba- 
listical  secrets  of  the  Jews,  and  the  magic  of  the  paynim 
Saracens.  Simpleness  of  diet  was  prescribed  to  them  — 
roots,  pottage,  gruels,  eating  flesh  but  thrice  a  week,  be- 
cause the  accustomed  feeding  on  flesh  is  a  dishonourable 
corruption  of  the  body ;  and  behold,  their  tables  groan 
under  delicate  fare.  Their  drink  was  to  be  water ;  and 
now,  to  drink  like  a  Templar  is  the  boast  of  each  jolly 
boon  companion.  This  very  garden,  filled  as  it  is  with 
curious  herbs  and  trees  sent  from  Eastern  climes,  better 
becomes  the  harem  of  an  unbelieving  Emir  than  the  plot 
which  Christian  monks  should  devote  to  raise  their  homely 
pot-herbs. — And  oh,  Conrade !  well  it  were  that  the  relaxa- 
tion of  discipline  stopped  even  here  !  —  Well  thou  know- 
est  that  we  were  forbidden  to  receive  those  devout  women 
who  at  the  beginning  were  associated  as  sisters  of  our 
Order,  because,  saith  the  forty-sixth  chapter,  the  Ancient 
Enemy  hath,  by  female  society,  withdrawn  many  from 
the  right  path  to  paradise.  Nay,  in  the  last  capital,  being, 
as  it  were,  the  copestone  which  our  blessed  founder  placed 
on  the  pure  and  undefiled  doctrine  which  he  had  enjoined, 
we  are  prohibited  from  offering,  even  to  our  sisters  and 
our  mothers,  the  kiss  of  affection :  id  omnium  mulierum 
fugiantur  oscula.  I  shame  to  speak  —  I  shame  to  think 
—  of  the  corruptions  which  have  rushed  in  upon  us  even 
like  a  flood.  The  souls  of  our  pure  founders,  the  spirits 
of  Hugh  de  Payen  and  Godfrey  de  St.  Omer,  and  of  the 
blessed  seven  who  first  joined  in  dedicating  their  lives  to 
the  service  of  the  Temple,  are  disturbed  even  in  the  en- 
joyment of  paradise  itself.  I  have  seen  them,  Conrade, 
in  the  visions  of  the  night  —  their  sainted  eyes  shed  tears 
for  the  sins  and  follies  of  their  brethren,  and  for  the  foul 
and  shameful  luxury  in  which  they  wallow.     'Beauma- 


378  IVANHOE. 

noir,'  they  say,  '  thou  slumberest  —  awake  !  There  is  a 
stain  in  the  fabric  of  the  Temple,  deep  and  foul  as  that 
left  by  the  streaks  of  leprosy  on  the  walls  of  the  infected 
houses  of  old.  The  soldiers  of  the  Cross,  who  should  shun 
the  glance  of  a  woman  as  the  eye  of  a  basilisk,  live  in 
open  sin,  not  with  the  females  of  their  own  race  only, 
but  with  the  daughters  of  the  accursed  heathen,  and  more 
accursed  Jew.  Beaumanoir,  thou  sleepest ;  up,  and 
avenge  our  cause  !  Slay  the  sinners,  male  and  female  ! 
Take  to  thee  the  brand  of  Phineas  ! ' — The  vision  fled,  Con- 
rade,  but  as  I  awaked  I  could  still  hear  the  clank  of  their 
mail,  and  see  the  waving  of  their  white  mantles. —  And  I 
will  do  according  to  their  word  ;  I  will  purify  the  fabric 
of  the  Temple ;  and  the  unclean  stones  in  which  the  plague 
is,  I  will  remove  and  cast  out  of  the  building." 

"  Yet  bethink  thee,  reverend  father,"  said  Mont-Fitchet, 
"the  stain  hath  become  engrained  by  time  and  consuetude; 
let  thy  reformation  be  cautious,  as  it  is  just  and  wise." 

"No,  Mont-Fitchet,"  answered  the  stern  old  man,  "it 
must  be  sharp  and  sudden ;  the  Order  is  on  the  crisis  of 
its  fate.  The  sobriety,  self-devotion,  and  piety  of  our 
predecessors  made  us  powerful  friends — our  presumption, 
our  wealth,  our  luxury  have  raised  up  against  us  mighty 
enemies.  We  must  cast  away  these  riches,  which  are  a 
temptation  to  princes  —  we  must  lay  down  that  presump- 
tion, which  is  an  offence  to  them — we  must  reform  that 
licence  of  manners,  which  is  a  scandal  to  the  whole 
Christian  world  !  Or  —  mark  my  words  —  the  Order  of 
the  Temple  will  be  utterly  demolished,  and  the  place 
thereof  shall  no  more  be  known  among  the  nations." 

"  Now  may  God  avert  such  a  calamity  !  "  said  the 
Preceptor. 

"Amen,"  said  the  Grand  Master,  with  solemnity,  "but 
we  must  deserve  His  aid.  I  tell  thee,  Conrade,  that 
neither  the  powers  in  Heaven,  nor  the  powers  on  earth, 
will  longer  endure  the  wickedness  of  this  generation. 
My  intelligence  is  sure  —  the  ground  on  which  our  fabric 
is  reared  is  already  undermined,  and  each  addition  we 
make  to  the  structure  of  our  greatness  will  only  sink  it 
the  sooner  in  the  abyss.     We  must  retrace  our  steps,  and 


IVANHOE.  379 

show  ourselves  the  faithful  Champions  of  the  Cross, 
sacrificing  to  our  calling  not  alone  our  blood  and  our  lives, 
not  alone  our  lusts  and  our  vices,  but  our  ease,  our  com- 
forts, and  our  natural  affections,  and  act  as  men  convinced 
that  many  a  pleasure  which  may  be  lawful  to  others  is 
forbidden  to  the  avowed  soldier  of  the  Temple." 

At  this  moment  a  squire,  clothed  in  a  threadbare  vest- 
ment (for  the  aspirants  after  this  Holy  Order  wore  during 
their  noviciate  the  cast-off  garments  of  the  knights)  en- 
tered the  garden,  and,  bowing  profoundly  before  the 
Grand  Master,  stood  silent,  awaiting  his  permission  ere 
he  presumed  to  tell  his  errand. 

"  Is  it  not  more  seemly,"  said  the  Grand  Master,  "  to 
see  this  Damian,  clothed  in  the  garments  of  Christian 
humility,  thus  appear  with  reverend  silence  before  his 
superior,  than  but  two  days  since,  when  the  fond  fool 
was  decked  in  a  painted  coat,  and  jangling  as  pert  and 
as  proud  as  any  popinjay  ? —  Speak,  Damian,  we  permit 
thee.     What  is  thine  errand  ?  " 

"  A  Jew  stands  without  the  gate,  noble  and  reverend 
father,"  said  the  squire,  "  who  prays  to  speak  with 
brother  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert." 

"  Thou  wert  right  to  give  me  knowledge  of  it,"  said 
the  Grand  Master ;  "  in  our  presence  a  Preceptor  is  but 
as  a  common  compeer  of  our  Order,  who  may  not  walk 
according  to  his  own  will,  but  to  that  of  his  Master,  even 
according  to  the  text,  i  In  the  hearing  of  the  ear  he  hath 
obeyed  me.'  It  imports  us  especially  to  know  of  this 
Bois-Guilbert's  proceedings,"  said  he,  turning  to  his 
companion. 

"  Report  speaks  him  brave  and  valiant,"  said  Conrade. 

"And  truly  is  he  so  spoken  of,"  said  the  Grand  Master; 
"in  our  valour  only  we  are  not  degenerated  from  our 
predecessors,  the  heroes  of  the  Cross.  But  brother  Brian 
came  into  our  Order  a  moody  and  disappointed  man, 
stirred,  I  doubt  me,  to  take  our  vows  and  to  renounce  the 
world,  not  in  sincerity  of  soul,  but  as  one  whom  some 
touch  of  light  discontent  had  driven  into  penitence.  Since 
then  he  hath  become  an  active  and  earnest  agitator,  a 
murmurer,  and  a  machinator,  and  a  leader  amongst  those 


380  IVANHOE. 

who  impugn  our  authority ;  not  considering  that  the 
rule  is  given  to  the  Master  even  by  the  symbol  of  the 
staff  and  the  rod — the  staff  to  support  the  infirmi- 
ties of  the  weak  —  the  rod  to  correct  the  faults  of  delin- 
quents.—  Damian,"  he  continued,  "lead  the  Jew  to  our 
presence." 

The  squire  departed  with  a  profound  reverence,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  returned,  marshalling  in  Isaac  of  York. 
No  naked  slave,  ushered  into  the  presence  of  some 
mighty  prince,  could  approach  his  judgment-seat  with 
more  profound  reverence  and  terror  than  that  with 
which  the  Jew  drew  near  to  the  presence  of  the  Grand 
Master.  When  he  had  approached  within  the  distance 
of  three  yards,  Beaumanoir  made  a  sign  with  his  staff 
that  he  should  come  no  farther.  The  Jew  kneeled  down 
on  the  earth,  which  he  kissed  in  token  of  reverence; 
then  rising,  stood  before  the  Templars,  his  hands  folded 
on  his  bosom,  his  head  bowed  on  his  breast,  in  all  the 
submission  of  Oriental  slavery. 

"Damian,"  said  the  Grand  Master,  "retire,  and  have 
a  guard  ready  to  await  our  sudden  call ;  and  suffer  no 
one  to  enter  the  garden  until  we  shall  leave  it."  —  The 
squire  bowed  and  retreated.  — "  Jew,"  continued  the 
haughty  old  man,  "mark  me.  It  suits  not  our  condition 
to  hold  with  thee  long  communication,  nor  do  we  waste 
words  or  time  upon  any  one.  Wherefore  be  brief  in  thy 
answers  to  what  questions  I  shall  ask  thee,  and  let  thy 
words  be  of  truth ;  for  if,  thy  tongue  doubles  with  me,  I 
will  have  it  torn  from  thy  misbelieving  jaws." 

The  Jew  was  about  to  reply;  but  the  Grand  Master 
went  on. 

"  Peace,  unbeliever !  not  a  word  in  our  presence,  save 
in  answer  to  our  questions.  —  What  is  thy  business  with 
our  brother  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  ?  " 

Isaac  gasped  with  terror  and  uncertainty.  To  tell  his 
tale  might  be  interpreted  into  scandalising  the  Order; 
yet,  unless  he  told  it,  what  hope  could  he  have  of  achiev- 
ing his  daughter's  deliverance  ?  Beaumanoir  saw  his 
mortal  apprehension,  and  condescended  to  give  him  some 
assurance. 


\\ 


^Uffm^*:: 


T^>3>ck  .  docjj     Odtd    WTe-  (^Li-andl  £)Qflisler  -, 


IVAN-HOE.  381 

"  Fear  nothing,"  he  said,  "  for  thy  wretched  person, 
Jew,  so  thou  dealest  uprightly  in  this  matter.  I  demand 
again  to  know  from  thee  thy  business  with  Brian  de 
Bois-Guilbert  ?  " 

"  I  am  bearer  of  a  letter,"  stammered  out  the  Jew,  "  so 
please  your  reverend  valour,  to  that  good  knight,  from 
Prior  Aymer  of  the  Abbey  of  Jorvaulx." 

"  Said  I  not  these  were  evil  times,  Conrade  ?  "  said  the 
Master.  "  A  Cistercian  Prior  sends  a  letter  to  a  soldier 
of  the  Temple,  and  can  find  no  more  fitting  messenger 
than  an  unbelieving  Jew.  —  Give  me  the  letter." 

The  Jew,  with  trembling  hands,  undid  the  folds  of  his 
Armenian  cap,  in  which  he  had  deposited  the  Prior's 
tablets  for  the  greater  security,  and  was  about  to  approach, 
with  hand  extended  and  body  crouched,  to  place  it  within 
the  reach  of  his  grim  interrogator. 

"  Back,  dog ! "  said  the  Grand  Master ;  "  I  touch  not 
misbelievers,  save  with  the  sword.  —  Conrade,  take  thou 
the  letter  from  the  Jew  and  give  it  to  me." 

Beaumanoir,  being  thus  possessed  of  the  tablets,  in- 
spected the  outside  carefully,  and  then  proceeded  to  undo 
the  pack-thread  which  secured  its  folds.  "Reverend 
father,"  said  Conrade,  interposing,  though  with  much 
deference,  "  wilt  thou  break  the  seal  ?  " 

"  And  will  I  not  ? ':  said  Beaumanoir,  with  a  frown. 
**'  Is  it  not  written  in  the  forty-second  capital,  De  Lectione 
Literantm,  that  a  Templar  shall  not  receive  a  letter,  no, 
not  from  his  father,  without  communicating  the  same  to 
the  Grand  Master,  and  reading  it  in  his  presence  ?  " 

He  then  perused  the  letter  in  haste,  with  an  expression 
of  surprise  and  horror;  read  it  over  again  more  slowly; 
then  holding  it  out  to  Conrade  with  one  hand,  and 
slightly  striking  it  with  the  other,  exclaimed :  "  Here  is 
goodly  stuff  for  one  Christian  man  to  write  to  another, 
and  both  members,  and  no  inconsiderable  members,  of 
religious  professions !  When,"  said  he,  solemnly,  and 
looking  upward,  "  wilt  Thou  come  with  Thy  fanners  to 
purge  the  thrashing-floor  ?  " 

Mont-Fitchet  took  the  letter  from  his  superior,  and  was 
about  to  peruse  it.     "  Read  it  aloud,  Conrade,"  said  the 


382  IVANHOE. 

Grand  Master ;  and  do  thou  (to  Isaac)  attend  to  the  pur- 
port of  it,  for  we  will  question  thee  concerning  it." 
Conrade  read  the  letter,  which  was  in  these  words : 

"  Aymer,  by  divine  grace,  Prior  of  the  Cistercian  house  of  St. 
Mary's  of  Jorvaulx,  to  Sir  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  a  Knight  of  the 
Holy  Order  of  the  Temple,  wisheth  health,  with  the  bounties  of 
King  Bacchus  and  of  my  Lady  Venus.  Touching  our  present  con- 
dition, dear  Brother,  we  are  a  captive  in  the  hands  of  certain  law- 
less and  godless  men,  who  have  not  feared  to  detain  our  person, 
and  put  us  to  ransom  ;  whereby  we  have  also  learned  of  Front-de- 
Bceuf's  misfortune,  and  that  thou  hast  escaped  with  that  fair 
Jewish  sorceress  whose  black  eyes  have  bewitched  thee.  We  are 
heartily  rejoiced  of  thy  safety  ;  nevertheless,  we  pray  thee  to  be 
on  thy  guard  in  the  matter  of  this  second  Witch  of  Endor ;  for  we 
are  privately  assured  that  your  Great  Master,  who  careth  not  a 
bean  for  cherry  cheeks  and  black  eyes,  comes  from  Normandy  to 
diminish  your  mirth  and  amend  your  misdoings.  "Wherefore  we 
pray  you  heartily  to  beware,  and  to  be  found  watching,  even  as 
the  Holy  Text  hath  it,  Invenientur  vigilantes.  And  the  wealthy 
Jew  her  father,  Isaac  of  York,  having  prayed  of  me  letters  in  his 
behalf,  I  gave  him  these,  earnestly  advising,  and  in  a  sort  entreat- 
ing, that  you  do  hold  the  damsel  to  ransom,  seeing  he  will  pay  you 
from  his  bags  as  much  as  may  find  fifty  damsels  upon  safer  terms, 
whereof  I  trust  to  have  my  part  when  we  make  merry  together,  as 
true  brothers,  not  forgetting  the  wine-cup.  For  what  saith  the 
text,  Vinum  Icetificat  cor  hominis ;  and  again,  Bex  delectabitur 
pulchritudine  tua. 

"Till  which  merry  meeting,  we  wish  you  farewell.  Given  from 
this  den  of  thieves,  about  the  hour  of  matins, 

"  Aymer  Pr.  S.   M.  Jorvolciencis. 

"Postscriptum.  — Truly  your  golden  chain  hath  not  long  abidden 
with  me,  and  will  now  sustain,  around  the  neck  of  an  outlaw  deer- 
stealer,  the  whistle  wherewith  he  calleth  on  his  hounds." 

"  What  sayest  thou  to  this,  Conrade  ?  "  said  the  Grand 
Master.  "Den  of  thieves  !  and  a  fit  residence  is  a  den  of 
thieves  for  such  a  Prior.  No  wonder  that  the  hand  of 
God  is  upon  us,  and  that  in  the  Holy  Land  we  lose  place 
by  place,  foot  by  foot,  before  the  infidels,  when  we  have 
such  churchmen  as  this  Aymer.  —  And  what  meaneth  he, 
I  trow,  by  'this  second  Witch  of  Endor'?"  said  he  to 
his  confidant,  something  apart. 

Conrade  was  better  acquainted,  perhaps  by  practice, 


IVANHOE.  383 

with  the  jargon  of  gallantry  than  was  his  superior ;  and 
he  expounded  the  passage  which  embarrassed  the  Grand 
Master  to  be  a  sort  of  language  used  by  worldly  men  tow- 
ard those  whom  they  loved  par  amours;  but  the  expla- 
nation did  not  satisfy  the  bigoted  Beaumanoir. 

"  There  is  more  in  it  than  thou  dost  guess,  Conrade ; 
thy  simplicity  is  no  match  for  this  deep  abyss  of  wicked- 
ness. This  Rebecca  of  York  was  a  pupil  of  that  Miriam 
of  whom  thou  hast  heard.  Thou  shalt  hear  the  Jew  own 
it  even  now."  Then  turning  to  Isaac,  he  said  aloud, 
"  Thy  daughter,  then,  is  prisoner  with  Brian  de  Bois- 
Guilbert  ?  " 

"Ay,  reverend  valorous  sir,"  stammered  poor  Isaac, 
"  and  whatsoever  ransom  a  poor  man  may  pay  for  her  de- 
liverance   " 

"  Peace !  "  said  the  Grand  Master.  "  This  thy  daughter 
hath  practised  the  art  of  healing,  hath  she  not  ?  " 

"  Ay,  gracious  sir,"  answered  the  Jew,  with  more  confi- 
dence ;  "  and  knight  and  yeoman,  squire  and  vassal,  may 
bless  the  goodly  gift  which  Heaven  hath  assigned  to  her. 
Many  a  one  can  testify  that  she  hath  recovered  them  by 
her  art,  when  every  other  human  aid  hath  proved  vain; 
but  the  blessing  of  the  God  of  Jacob  was  upon  her." 

Beaumanoir  turned  to  Mont-Fitchet  with  a  grim  smile. 
"  See,  brother,"  he  said,  "  the  deceptions  of  the  devour- 
ing Enemy !  Behold  the  baits  with  which  he  fishes  for 
souls,  giving  a  poor  space  of  earthly  life  in  exchange  for 
eternal  happiness  hereafter.  Well  said  our  blessed  rule, 
Seinper  percutiatur  leo  vorxtns.  —  Upon  the  lion !  Down 
with  the  destroyer !  "  said  he,  shaking  aloft  his  mystic 
abacus,  as  if  in  defiance  of  the  powers  of  darkness. 
"  Thy  daughter  worketh  the  cures,  I  doubt  not,"  thus  he 
went  on  to  address  the  Jew,  "by  words  and  sigils,  and 
periapts,  and  other  cabalistical  mysteries." 

"Nay,  reverend  and  brave  knight,"  answered  Isaac, 
"  but  in  chief  measure  by  a  balsam  of  marvellous  virtue." 

"Where  had  she  that  secret?"  said  Beaumanoir. 

"  It  was  delivered  to  her,"  answered  Isaac,  reluctantly, 
"by  Miriam,  a  sage  matron  of  our  tribe." 

"  Ah,  false  Jew ! "  said  the  Grand  Master ;  "  was  it  not 


384  IVANHOE. 

from  that  same  witch  Miriam,  the  abomination  of  whose 
enchantments  have  been  heard  of  throughout  every  Chris- 
tian land  ?  "  exclaimed  the  Grand  Master,  crossing  him- 
self. "  Her  body  was  burnt  at  a  stake,  and  her  ashes 
were  scattered  to  the  four  winds ;  and  so  be  it  with  me 
and  mine  Order,  if  I  do  not  as  much  to  her  pupil,  and  more 
also !  I  will  teach  her  to  throw  spell  and  incantation  over 
the  soldiers  of  the  blessed  Temple  !  —  There,  Damian, 
spurn  this  Jew  from  the  gate ;  shoot  him  dead  if  he 
oppose  or  turn  again.  With  his  daughter  we  will  deal 
as  the  Christian  law  and  our  own  high  office  warrant." 

Poor  Isaac  was  hurried  off  accordingly,  and  expelled 
from  the  Preceptory,  all  his  entreaties,  and  even  his 
offers,  unheard  and  disregarded.  He  could  do  no  better 
than  return  to  the  house  of  the  Rabbi,  and  endeavour, 
through  his  means,  to  learn  how  his  daughter  was  to  be 
disposed  of.  He  had  hitherto  feared  for  her  honour ; 
he  was  now  to  tremble  for  her  life.  Meanwhile,  the 
Grand  Master  ordered  to  his  presence  the  Preceptor  of 
Templestowe. 

CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

Say  not  my  art  is  fraud  :  all  live  by  seeming. 
The  beggar  begs  with  it,  and  the  gay  courtier 
Gains  land  and  title,  rank  and  ride,  by  seeming ; 
The  clergy  scorn  it  not ;  and  the  bold  soldier 
Will  eke  with  it  his,service.     All  admit  it, 
All  practise  it ;  and  he  who  is  content 
With  showing  what  he  is  shall  have  small  credit 
In  church,  or  camp,  or  state.     So  wags  the  world. 

Old  Play. 

Albert  Malvoisin,  President,  or,  in  the  language  of 
the  Order,  Preceptor  of  the  establishment  of  Templestowe, 
was  brother  to  that  Philip  Malvoisin  who  has  been  already 
Dccasionally  mentioned  in  this  history,  and  was,  like  that 
baron,  in  close  league  with  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert. 

Amongst  dissolute  and  unprincipled  men,  of  whom  the 
Temple  Order  included  but  too  many,  Albert  of  Temple- 
stowe might  be  distinguished;  but  with  this  difference 


IVANHOE.  385 

from  the  audacious  Bois-Guilbert,  that  he  knew  how  to 
throw  over  his  vices  and  his  ambition  the  veil  of  hypoc- 
risy, and  to  assume  in  his  exterior  the  fanaticism  which 
he  internally  despised.  Had  not  the  arrival  of  the  Grand 
Master  been  so  unexpectedly  sudden,  he  would  have  seen 
nothing  at  Templestowe  which  might  have  appeared  to 
argue  an}r  relaxation  of  discipline.  And,  even  although 
surprised,  and  to  a  certain  extent  detected,  Albert  Mal- 
voisin  listened  with  such  respect  and  apparent  contrition 
to  the  rebuke  of  his  superior,  and  made  such  haste  to 
reform  the  particulars  he  censured  —  succeeded,  in  fine, 
so  well  in  giving  an  air  of  ascetic  devotion  to  a  family 
which  had  been  lately  devoted  to  license  and  pleasure, 
that  Lucas  Beaumanoir  began  to  entertain  a  higher 
opinion  of  the  Preceptor's  morals  than  the  first  appear- 
ance of  the  establishment  had  inclined  him  to  adopt. 

But  these  favourable  sentiments  on  the  part  of  the 
Grand  Master  were  greatly  shaken  by  the  intelligence 
that  Albert  had  received  within  a  house  of  religion  the 
Jewish  captive,  and,  as  was  to  be  feared,  the  paramour 
of  a  brother  of  the  Orden;  and  when  Albert  appeared 
before  him  he  was  regarded  with  unwonted  sternness. 

"  There  is  in  this  mansion,  dedicated  to  the  purposes 
of  the  Holy  Order  of  the  Temple,"  said  the  Grand  Master, 
in  a  severe  tone,  "  a  Jewish  woman,  brought  hither  by  a 
brother  of  religion,  by  your  connivance,  Sir  Preceptor." 

Albert  Malvoisin  was  overwhelmed  with  confusion; 
for  the  unfortunate  Bebecca  had  been  confined  in  a 
remote  and  secret  part  of  the  building,  and  every  pre- 
caution used  to  prevent  her  residence  there  from  being 
known.  He  read  in  the  looks  of  Beaumanoir  ruin  to 
Bois-Guilbert  and  to  himself,  unless  he  should  be  able 
to  avert  the  impending  storm. 

"Why  are  you  mute?"  continued  the  Grand  Master. 

"  Is  it  permitted  to  me  to  reply  ?  "  answered  the  Pre- 
ceptor, in  a  tone  of  the  deepest  humility,  although  by  the 
question  he  only  meant  to  gain  an  instant's  space  for 
arranging  his  ideas. 

"  Speak,  you  are  permitted,"  said  the  Grand  Master  — 
"speak,  and  say,  knowest  thou  the  capital  of  our  holy 
2c 


386  IVANHOE. 

rule:  De  commilitonibus  Templi  in  sancta  civitate,  qui 
cum  miserrimis  mulieribus  versantur,  propter  oblectationem 
carnis  ?  " 

"  Surely,  most  reverend  father,"  answered  the  Precep- 
tor, "  I  have  not  risen  to  this  office  in  the  Order,  being 
ignorant  of  one  of  its  most  important  prohibitions." 

"  How  comes  it,  then,  I  demand  of  thee  once  more,  that 
thou  hast  suffered  a  brother  to  bring  a  paramour,  and  that 
paramour  a  Jewish  sorceress,  into  this  holy  place,  to  the 
stain  and  pollution  thereof  ?  " 

"  A  Jewish  sorceress  ! "  echoed  Albert  Malvoisin,  "good 
angels  guard  us  !  " 

"Ay,  brother,  a  Jewish  sorceress,"  said  the  Grand 
Master,  sternly.  "  I  have  said  it.  Darest  thou  deny 
that  this  Rebecca,  the  daughter  of  that  wretched  usurer 
Isaac  of  York,  and  the  pupil  of  the  foul  witch  Miriam, 
is  now  —  shame  to  be  thought  or  spoken !  —  lodged  within 
this  thy  Preceptory  ?  " 

"Your  wisdom,  reverend  father,"  answered  the  Pre- 
ceptor, "  hath  rolled  away  the  darkness  from  my  under- 
standing. Much  did  I  wonder  that  so  good  a  knight  as 
Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  seemed  so  fondly  besotted  on  the 
charms  of  this  female,  whom  J  received  into  this  house 
merely  to  place  a  bar  betwixt  their  growing  intimacy, 
which  else  might  have  been  cemented  at  the  expense  of 
the  fall  of  our  valiant  and  religious  brother." 

"  Hath  nothing,  then,  as  yet  passed  betwixt  them  in 
breach  of  his  vow  ?  "  demanded  the  Grand  Master. 

"  What !  under  this  roof  ?  "  said  the  Preceptor,  cross- 
ing himself ;  "  St.  Magdalene  and  the  ten  thousand  vir- 
gins forbid !  —  No !  if  I  have  sinned  in  receiving  her  here, 
it  was  in  the  erring  thought  that  I  might  thus  break  off 
our  brother's  besotted  devotion  to  this  Jewess,  which 
seemed  to  me  so  wild  and  unnatural,  that  I  could  not  but 
ascribe  it  to  some  touch  of  insanity,  more  to  be  cured  by 
pity  than  reproof.  But,  since  your  reverend  wisdom  hath 
discovered  this  Jewish  quean  to  be  a  sorceress,  perchance 
it  may  account  fully  for  his  enamoured  folly." 

"  It  doth !  —  it  doth  ! "  said  Beaumanoir.  "  See,  brother 
Conrade,  the  peril  of  yielding  to  the  first  devices  and 


IVANHOE.  387 

blandishments  of  Satan !  We  look  upon  woman  only  to 
gratify  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  to  take  pleasure  in  what 
men  call  her  beauty ;  and  the  ancient  Enemy,  the  devour- 
ing lion,  obtains  power  over  us,  to  complete,  by  talisman 
and  spell,  a  work  which  was  begun  by  idleness  and  folly. 
It  may  be  that  our  brother  Bois-Guilbert  does  in  this 
matter  deserve  rather  pity  than  severe  chastisement, 
rather  the  support  of  the  staff  than  the  strokes  of  the 
rod ;  and  that  our  admonitions  and  prayers  may  turn  him 
from  his  folly,  and  restore  him  to  his  brethren." 

"It  were  deep  pity,"  said  Conrade  Mont-Fitchet,  "to 
lose  to  the  Order  one  of  its  best  lances,  when  the  holy 
community  most  requires  the  aid  of  its  sons.  Three  hun- 
dred Saracens  hath  this  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  slain  with 
his  own  hand." 

"The  blood  of  these  accursed  dogs,"  said  the  Grand 
Master,  "  shall  be  a  sweet  and  acceptable  offering  to  the 
saints  and  angels  whom  they  despise  and  blaspheme ;  and 
with  their  aid  will  we  counteract  the  spells  and  charms 
with  which  our  brother  is  entwined  as  in  a  net.  He  shall 
burst  the  bands  of  this  Delilah  as  Samson  burst  the  two 
new  cords  with  which  the  Philistines  had  bound  him,  and 
shall  slaughter  the  infidels,  even  heaps  upon  heaps.  But 
concerning  this  foul  witch,  who  hath  flung  her  enchant- 
ments over  a  brother  of  the  Holy  Temple,  assuredly  she 
shall  die  the  death." 

"  But  the  laws  of  England "  said  the  Preceptor, 

who,  though  delighted  that  the  Grand  Master's  resent- 
ment, thus  fortunately  averted  from  himself  and  Bois- 
Guilbert,  had  taken  another  direction,  began  now  to  fear 
he  was  carrying  it  too  far. 

"  The  laws  of  England,"  interrupted  Beaumanoir,  "  per- 
mit and  enjoin  each  judge  to  execute  justice  within  his 
own  jurisdiction.  The  most  petty  baron  may  arrest,  try, 
and  condemn  a  witch  found  within  his  own  domain.  And 
shall  that  power  be  denied  to  the  Grand  Master  of  the 
Temple  within  the  Preceptory  of  his  Order  ?  No !  we 
will  judge  and  condemn.  The  witch  shall  be  taken  out 
of  the  land,  and  the  wickedness  thereof  shall  be  forgiven. 
Prepare  the  Castle  hall  for  the  trial  of  the  sorceress." 


38G  1VANH0E. 

Albert  Malvoisin  bowed  and  retired,  not  to  give  direc- 
tions for  preparing  the  hall,  but  to  seek  out  Brian  de 
Bois-Guilbert,  and  communicate  to  him  how  matters  were 
likely  to  terminate.  It  was  not  long  ere  he  found  him, 
foaming  with  indignation  at  a  repulse  he  had  anew  sus- 
tained from  the  fair  Jewess.  "  The  unthinking,"  he 
said,  "the  ungrateful,  to  scorn  him  who,  amidst  blood 
and  names,  would  have  saved  her  life  at  the  risk  of  his 
own !  By  Heaven,  Malvoisin !  I  abode  until  roof  and 
rafters  crackled  and  crashed  around  me.  I  was  the  butt 
of  a  hundred  arrows ;  they  rattled  on  mine  armour  like 
hailstones  against  a  latticed  casement,  and  the  only  use 
I  made  of  my  shield  was  for  her  protection.  This  did  I 
endure  for  her,  and  now  the  self-willed  girl  upbraids  me 
that  I  did  not  leave  her  to  perish,  and  refuses  me  not 
only  the  slightest  proof  of  gratitude,  but  even  the  most 
distant  hope  that  ever  she  will  be  brought  to  grant  any. 
The  devil,  that  possessed  her  race  with  obstinacy,  has 
concentrated  its  full  force  in  her  single  person ! " 

"  The  devil,"  said  the  Preceptor,  "  I  think,  possessed 
you  both.  How  oft  have  I  preached  to  you  caution,  if 
not  continence  ?  Did  I  not  tell  you  that  there  were 
enough  willing  Christian  damsels  to  be  met  with,  who 
would  think  it  sin  to  refuse  so  brave  a  knight  le  don 
(Pamoureux  merci,  and  you  must  needs  anchor  your  affec- 
tion on  a  wilful,  obstinate  Jewess !  By  the  mass,  I  think 
old  Lucas  Beaumanoir  guesses  right,  when  he  maintains 
she  hath  cast  a  spell  over  you." 

"  Lucas  Beaumanoir  ?  "  said  Bois-Guilbert,  reproach- 
fully. "Are  these  your  precautions,  Malvoisin?  Hast 
thou  suffered  the  dotard  to  learn  that  Rebecca  is  in  the 

* 

Preceptory  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  help  it  ?  "  said  the  Preceptor.  "  I  neg- 
lected nothing  that  could  keep  secret  your  mystery ;  but  it 
is  betrayed,  and  whether  by  the  devil  or  no,  the  devil  only 
can  tell.  But  I  have  turned  the  matter  as  I  could  ;  you 
are  safe  if  you  renounce  Rebecca.  You  are  pitied  —  the 
victim  of  magical  delusion.  She  is  a  sorceress,  and  must 
suffer  as  such." 

"  She  shall  not,  by  Heaven  ! "  said  Bois-Guilbert. 


IVANHOE.  389 

"By  Heaven,  she  must  and  will!"  said  Malvoisin. 
"Neither  you  nor  any  one  else  can  save  her.  Lucas 
Beaumanoir  hath  settled  that  the  death  of  a  Jewess  will 
be  a  sin-offering  sufficient  to  atone  for  all  the  amorous 
indulgences  of  the  Knights  Templars ;  and  thou  knowest 
he  hath  both  the  power  and  will  to  execute  so  reasonable 
and  pious  a  purpose." 

"  Will  future  ages  believe  that  such  stupid  bigotry 
ever  existed ! "  said  Bois-Guilbert,  striding  up  and  down 
the  apartment. 

"  What  they  may  believe,  I  know  not,"  said  Malvoisin, 
calmly ;  "  but  I  know  well,  that  in  this  our  day  clergy 
and  laymen,  take  ninety-nine  to  the  hundred,  will  cry 
'  Amen '  to  the  Grand  Master's  sentence." 

"  I  have  it,"  said  Bois-Guilbert.  "  Albert,  thou  art  my 
friend.  Thou  must  connive  at  her  escape,  Malvoisin,  and 
I  will  transport  her  to  some  place  of  greater  security  and 
secrecy." 

"I  cannot,  if  I  would,"  replied  the  Preceptor;  "the 
mansion  is  filled  with  the  attendants  of  the  Grand  Mas- 
ter, and  others  who  are  devoted  to  him.  And,  to  be 
frank  with  you,  brother,  I  would  not  embark  with  you 
in  this  matter,  even  if  I  could  hope  to  bring  my  bark  to 
haven.  I  have  risked  enough  already  for  your  sake.  I 
have  no  mind  to  encounter  a  sentence  of  degradation,  or 
even  to  lose  my  Preceptory,  for  the  sake  of  a  painted 
piece  of  Jewish  flesh  and  blood.  And  you,  if  you  will 
be  guided  by  my  counsel,  will  give  up  this  wild-goose 
chase,  and  fly  your  hawk  at  some  other  game.  Think, 
Bois-Guilbert  —  thy  present  rank,  thy  future  honours,  all 
depend  on  thy  place  in  the  Order.  Shouldst  thou  adhere 
perversely  to  thy  passion  for  this  Rebecca,  thou  wilt  give 
Beaumanoir  the  power  of  expelling  thee,  and  he  will  not 
neglect  it.  He  is  jealous  of  the  truncheon  which  he 
holds  in  his  trembling  gripe,  and  he  knows  thou  stretch- 
est  thy  bold  hand  towards  it.  Doubt  not  he  will  ruin 
thee,  if  thou  affordest  him  a  pretext  so  fair  as  thy  pro- 
tection of  a  Jewish  sorceress.  Give  him  his  scope  in 
this  matter,  for  thou  canst  not  control  him.  When  the 
staff  is  in  thine  own  firm  grasp,  thou  mayest  caress  the 


390  IVANHOE. 

daughters  of  Judah,  or  burn  them,  as  may  best  suit  thine 
own  humour." 

"Malvoisin,"  said  Bois-Guilbert,  "thou  art  a  cold- 
blooded   " 

"  Friend,"  said  the  Preceptor,  hastening  to  fill  up  the 
blank,  in  which  Bois-Guilbert  would  probably  have  placed 
a  worse  word  —  "a  cold-blooded  friend  I  am,  and  therefore 
more  fit  to  give  thee  advice.  I  tell  thee  once  more,  that 
thou  canst  not  save  Rebecca.  I  tell  thee  once  more,  thou 
canst  but  perish  with  her.  Go  hie  thee  to  the  Grand 
Master ;  throw  thyself  at  his  feet  and  tell  him " 

"  Not  at  his  feet,  by  Heaven  !  but  to  the  dotard's  very 
beard  will  I  say " 

"  Say  to  him,  then,  to  his  beard,"  continued  Malvoisin, 
coolly,  "  that  you  love  this  captive  Jewess  to  distraction ; 
and  the  more  thou  dost  enlarge  on  thy  passion,  the 
greater  will  be  his  haste  to  end  it  by  the  death  of  the 
fair  enchantress ;  while  thou,  taken  in  flagrant  delict  by 
the  avowal  of  a  crime  contrary  to  thine  oath,  canst  hope 
no  aid  of  thy  brethren,  and  must  exchange  all  thy  brill- 
iant visions  of  ambition  and  power,  to  lift  perhaps  a 
mercenary  spear  in  some  of  the  petty  quarrels  between 
Flanders  and  Burgundy." 

"Thou  speakest  the  truth,  Malvoisin,"  said  Brian  de 
Bois-Guilbert,  after  a  moment's  reflection.  "  I  will  give 
the  hoary  bigot  no  advantage  over  me;  and  for  Rebecca, 
she  hath  not  merited  at  my  hand  that  I  should  expose 
rank  and  honour  for  her  sake.  I  will  cast  her  off ;  yes, 
I  will  leave  her  to  her  fate,  unless " 

"  Qualify  not  thy  wise  and  necessary  resolution,"  said 
Malvoisin;  "women  are  but  the  toys  which  amuse  our 
lighter  hours  —  ambition  is  the  serious  business  of  life. 
Perish  a  thousand  such  frail  baubles  as  this  Jewess, 
before  thy  manly  step  pause  in  the  brilliant  career  that 
lies  stretched  before  thee !  For  the  present  we  part,  nor 
must  we  be  seen  to  hold  close  conversation  ;  I  must  order 
the  hall  for  his  judgment-seat." 

"  What !  "  said  Bois-Guilbert,  "  so  soon  ?  " 

"  Ay,"  replied  the  Preceptor,  "  trial  moves  rapidly  on 
when  the  judge  has  determined  the  sentence  beforehand." 


IVANHOE.  391 

"  Rebecca,"  said  Bois-Guilbert,  when  lie  was  left  alone, 
"  thou  art  like  to  cost  me  dear.  —  Why  cannot  I  abandon 
thee  to  thy  fate,  as  this  calm  hypocrite  recommends  ?  — 
One  effort  will  I  make  to  save  thee ;  but  beware  of  in- 
gratitude !  for,  if  I  am  again  repulsed,  my  vengeance 
shall  equal  my  love.  The  life  and  honour  of  Bois- 
Guilbert  must  not  be  hazarded,  where  contempt  and 
reproaches  are  his  only  reward." 

The  Preceptor  had  hardly  given  the  necessary  orders, 
when  he  was  joined  by  Conrade  Mont-Fitchet,  who 
acquainted  him  with  the  Grand  Master's  resolution  to 
bring  the  Jewess  to  instant  trial  for  sorcery. 

"  It  is  surely  a  dream,"  said  the  Preceptor ;  "  we  have 
many  Jewish  physicians,  and  we  call  them  not  wizards, 
though  they  work  wonderful  cures." 

"  The  Grand  Master  thinks  otherwise,"  said  Mont- 
Fitchet  ;  "  and,  Albert,  I  will  be  upright  with  thee  — 
wizard  or  not,  it  were  better  that  this  miserable  damsel 
die  than  that  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert  should  be  lost  to 
the  Order,  or  the  Order  divided  by  internal  dissension. 
Thou  knowest  his  high  rank,  his  fame  in  arms ;  thou 
knowest  the  zeal  with  which  many  of  our  brethren 
regard  him ;  but  all  this  will  not  avail  him  with  our 
Grand  Master,  should  he  consider  Brian  as  the  accom- 
plice, not  the  victim,  of  this  Jewess.  Were  the  souls  of 
the  twelve  tribes  in  her  single  body,  it  were  better  she 
suffered  alone,  than  that  Bois-Guilbert  were  partner  in 
her  destruction." 

"  I  have  been  working  him  even  now  to  abandon  her," 
said  Malvoisin ;  "  but  still,  are  there  grounds  enough  to 
condemn  this  Rebecca  for  sorcery  ?  Will  not  the  Grand 
Master  change  his  mind  when  he  sees  that  the  proofs  are 
so  weak  ?  " 

"  They  must  be  strengthened,  Albert,"  replied  Mont- 
Fitchet —  "they  must  be  strengthened.  Dost  thou  un- 
derstand me  ?  " 

"I  do,"  said  the  Preceptor,  "nor  do  I  scruple  to  do 
aught  for  advancement  of  the  Order ;  but  there  is  little 
time  to  find  engines  fitting." 

"Malvoisin,  they  must  be  found,"  said  Conrade ;  "well 


392  IVANHOE. 

will  it  advantage  both  the  Order  and  thee.  This  Tempie- 
stowe  is  a  poor  Preceptory  —  that  of  Maison-Dieu  is  worth 
double  its  value.  —  Thou  knowest  my  interest  with  our 
old  Chief  —  find  those  who  can  carry  this  matter  through, 
and  thou  art  Preceptor  of  Maison-Dieu  in  the  fertile 
Kent.  —  How  sayst  thou  ?  " 

"There  is,"  replied  Malvoisin,  "among  those  who 
came  hither  with  Bois-Guilbert,  two  fellows  whom  I  well 
know ;  servants  they  were  to  my  brother  Philp  de  Mal- 
voisin, and  passed  from  his  service  to  that  of  Front-de- 
Boeuf .  —  It  may  be  they  know  something  of  the  witch- 
eries of  this  woman." 

"  Away,  seek  them  out  instantly  —  and  hark  thee,  if  a 
byzant  or  two  will  sharpen  their  memory,  let  them  not 
be  wanting." 

"They  would  swear  the  mother  that  bore  them  a 
sorceress,  for  a  zecchin,"  said  the  Preceptor. 

"  Away,  then,"  said  Mont-Fitchet ;  "  at  noon  the  affair 
will  proceed.  I  have  not  seen  our  senior  in  such  earnest 
preparation  since  he  condemned  to  the  stake  Hamet 
Alfagi,  a  convert  who  relapsed  to   the   Moslem  faith." 

The  ponderous  castle-bell  had  tolled  the  point  of 
noon,  when  Rebecca  heard  a  trampling  of  feet  upon  the 
private  stair  which  led  to  her  place  of  confinement.  The 
noise  announced  the  arrival  of  several  persons,  and  the 
circumstance  rather  gave  her  joy ;  for  she  was  more 
afraid  of  the  solitary  visits  of  the  fierce  and  passionate 
Bois-Guilbert  than  of  any  «vil  that  could  befall  her  be- 
sides. The  door  of  the  chamber  was  unlocked,  and 
Conrade  and  the  Preceptor  Malvoisin  entered,  attended 
by  four  warders  clothed  in  black,  and  bearing  halberds. 

"  Daughter  of  an  accursed  race ! "  said  the  Preceptor, 
"  arise  and  follow  us." 

"  Whither,"  said  Rebecca,  "  and  for  what  purpose  ?  " 

"Damsel,"  answered  Conrade,  "it  is  not  for  thee  to 
question,  but  to  obey.  Nevertheless,  be  it  known  to  thee 
that  thou  art  to  be  brought  before  the  tribunal  of  the 
Grand  Master  of  our  Holy  Order,  there  to  answer  for 
thine  offences." 

"  May  the  God  of  Abraham  be  praised  ! "  said  Rebecca, 


IVANHOE.  393 

folding  her  hands  devoutly;  "the  name  of  a  judge, 
though  an  enemy  to  my  people,  is  to  me  as  the  name  of 
a  protector.  Most  willingly  do  I  follow  thee ;  permit  me 
only  to  wrap  my  veil  around  my  head." 

They  descended  the  stair  with  slow  and  solemn  step, 
traversed  a  long  gallery,  and,  by  a  pair  of  folding-doors 
placed  at  the  end,  entered  the  great  hall  in  which  the 
Grand  Master  had  for  the  time  established  his  court  of 
justice. 

The  lower  part  of  this  ample  apartment  was  filled 
with  squires  and  yeomen,  who  made  way,  not  without 
some  difficulty,  for  Rebecca,  attended  by  the  Preceptor 
and  Mont-Fitchet,  and  followed  by  the  guard  of  halber- 
diers, to  move  forward  to  the  seat  appointed  for  her.  As 
she  passed  through  the  crowd,  her  arms  folded  and  her 
head  depressed,  a  scrap  of  paper  was  thrust  into  her 
hand,  which  she  received  almost  unconsciously,  and 
continued  to  hold  without  examining  its  contents.  The 
assurance  that  she  possessed  some  friend  in  this  awful 
assembly  gave  her  courage  to  look  around,  and  to  mark 
into  whose  presence  she  had  been  conducted.  She 
gazed,  accordingly,  upon  the  scene,  which  we  shall 
endeavour  to  describe  in  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

Stern  was  the  law  which  bade  its  vot'ries  leave 
At  human  woes  with  human  hearts  to  grieve  ; 
Stern  was  the  law,  which  at  the  winning  wile 
Of  frank  and  harmless  mirth  forbade  to  smile ; 
But  sterner  still,  when  high  the  iron  rod 
Of  tyrant  power  she  shook,  and  call'd  that  power  of  God. 

The  Middle  Ages. 

The  tribunal  erected  for  the  trial  of  the  innocent  and 
unhappy  Rebecca,  occupied  the  dais  or  elevated  part  of 
the  upper  end  of  the  great  hall  —  a  platform  which  we 
have  already  described  as  the  place  of  honour,  destined 
to  be  occupied  by  the  most  distinguished  inhabitants  or 
guests  of  an  ancient  mansion. 


394  IVANHOE. 

On  an  elevated  seat,  directly  before  the  accused,  sat 
the  Grand  Master  of  the  Temple,  in  full  and  ample  robes 
of  flowing  white,  holding  in  his  hand  the  mystic  staff 
which  bore  the  symbol  of  the  Order.  At  his  feet  was 
placed  a  table,  occupied  by  two  scribes,  chaplains  of  the 
Order,  whose  duty  it  was  to  reduce  to  formal  record  the 
proceedings  of  the  day.  The  black  dresses,  bare  scalps, 
and  demure  looks  of  these  churchmen  formed  a  strong 
contrast  to  the  warlike  appearance  of  the  knights  who 
attended,  either  as  residing  in  the  Preceptory  or  as  come 
thither  to  attend  upon  their  Grand  Master.  The  Precep- 
tors of  whom  there  were  four  present,  occupied  seats 
lower  in  height  and  somewhat  drawn  back  behind  that 
of  their  superior;  and  the  knights  who  enjoyed  no  such 
rank  in  the  Order  were  placed  on  benches  still  lower,  and 
preserving  the  same  distance  from  the  Preceptors  as 
these  from  the  Grand  Master.  Behind  them,  but  still 
upon  the  dais  or  elevated  portion  of  the  hall,  stood  the 
esquires  of  the  Order,  in  white  dresses  of  an  inferior 
quality. 

The  whole  assembly  wore  an  aspect  of  the  most  pro- 
found gravity ;  and  in  the  faces  of  the  knights  might  be 
perceived  traces  of  military  daring,  united  with  the  sol- 
emn carriage  becoming  men  of  a  religious  profession,  and 
which,  in  the  presence  of  their  Grand  Master,  failed  not 
to  sit  upon  eveiy  brow. 

The  remaining  and  lower  part  of  the  hall  was  filled 
with  guards,  holding  partisans,  and  with  other  attendants 
whom  curiosity  had  drawn  thither  to  see  at  once  a  Grand 
Master  and  a  Jewish  sorceress.  By  far  the  greater  part 
of  those  inferior  persons  were,  in  one  rank  or  other,  con- 
nected with  the  Order,  and  were  accordingly  distinguished 
by  their  black  dresses.  But  peasants  from  the  neighbour- 
ing country  were  not  refused  admittance  ;  for  it  was  the 
pride  of  Beaumanoir  to  render  the  edifying  spectacle  of 
the  justice  which  he  administered  as  public  as  possible. 
His  large  blue  eyes  seemed  to  expand  as  he  gazed  around 
the  assembly,  and  his  countenance  appeared  elated  by 
the  conscious  dignity  and  imaginary  merit  of  the  part 
which   he  was  about  to   perform.     A   psalm,  which   he 


IVANHOE.  395 

himself  accompanied  with  a  deep  mellow  voice,  which 
age  had  not  deprived  of  its  powers,  commenced  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  day ;  and  the  solemn  sounds,  Venite,  ex- 
ultemus  Domino,  so  often  sung  by  the  Templars  before 
engaging  with  earthly  adversaries,  was  judged  by  Lucas 
most  appropriate  to  introduce  the  approaching  triumph, 
for  such  he  deemed  it,  over  the  powers  of  darkness.  The 
deep  prolonged  notes,  raised  by  a  hundred  masculine 
voices  accustomed  to  combine  in  the  choral  chant,  arose 
to  the  vaulted  roof  of  the  hall,  and  rolled  on  amongst  its 
arches  with  the  pleasing  yet  solemn  sound  of  the  rush- 
ing of  mighty  waters. 

When  the  sounds  ceased,  the  Grand  Master  glanced 
his  eye  slowly  around  the  circle,  and  observed  that  the 
seat  of  one  of  the  Preceptors  was  vacant.  Brian  de 
Bois-Guilbert,  by  whom  it  had  been  occupied,  had  left 
his  place,  and  was  now  stauding  near  the  extreme  corner 
of  one  of  the  benches  occupied  by  the  Knights  Compan- 
ions of  the  Temple,  one  hand  extending  his  long  mantle, 
so  as  in  some  degree  to  hide  his  face ;  while  the  other 
held  his  cross-handled  sword,  with  the  point  of  which, 
sheathed  as  it  was,  he  was  slowly  drawing  lines  upon  the 
oaken  floor. 

"Unhappy  man!'  said  the  Grand  Master,  after  fa- 
vouring him  with  a  glance  of  compassion.  "  Thou  seest, 
Conrade,  how  this  holy  work  distresses  him.  To  this 
can  the  light  look  of  woman,  aided  by  the  Prince  of 
the  Powers  of  this  world,  bring  a  valiant  and  worthy 
knight !  —  Seest  thou  he  cannot  look  upon  us  ;  he  can- 
not look  upon  her ;  and  who  knows  by  what  impulse 
from  his  tormentor  his  hand  forms  these  cabalistic  lines 
upon  the  floor  ?  It  may  be  our  life  and  safety  are  thus 
aimed  at ;  but  we  spit  at  and  defy  the  foul  enemy. 
Semper  Leo  percutiatur  I " 

This  was  communicated  apart  to  his  confidential  fol- 
lower, Conrade  Mont-Fitchet.  The  Grand  Master  then 
raised  his  voice  and  addressed  the  assembly. 

"Reverend  and  valiant  men,  Knights,  Preceptors,  and 
Companions  of  this  Holy  Order,  my  brethren  and  my 
children !  —  you  also,  well-born  and  pious  esquires,  who 


396  IVANHOE. 

aspire  to  wear  this  Holy  Cross  !  —  and  you  also,  Christian 
brethren,  of  every  degree !  —  be  it  known  to  you,  that 
it  is  not  defect  of  power  in  us  which  hath  occasioned 
the  assembling  of  this  congregation;  for,  however  un- 
worthy in  our  person,  yet  to  us  is  committed,  with  this 
batoon,  full  power  to  judge,  and  to  try  all  that  regards 
the  weal  of  this  our  Holy  Order.  Holy  St.  Bernard,  in 
the  rule  of  our  knightly  and  religious  profession,  hath 
said,  in  the  fifty-ninth  capital,  that  he  would  not  that 
brethren  be  called  together  in  council,  save  at  the  will 
and  command  of  the  Master;  leaving  it  free  to  us,  as  to 
those  more  worthy  fathers  who  have  preceded  us  in  this 
our  office,  to  judge  as  well  of  the  occasion  as  of  the  time 
and  place  in  which  a  chapter  of  the  whole  Order,  or  of 
any  part  thereof,  may  be  convoked.  Also,  in  all  such 
chapters,  it  is  our  duty  to  hear  the  advice  of  our  brethren 
and  to  proceed  according  to  our  own  pleasure.  But  when 
the  raging  wolf  hath  made  an  inroad  upon  the  flock,  and 
carried  off  one  member  thereof,  it  is  the  duty  of  the 
kind  shepherd  to  call  his  comrades  together,  that  with 
bows  and  slings  they  may  quell  the  invader,  according 
to  our  well-known  rule,  that  the  lion  is  ever  to  be  beaten 
down.  We  have  therefore  summoned  to  our  presence  a 
Jewish  woman,  by  name  Rebecca,  daughter  of  Isaac  of 
York  —  a  woman  infamous  for  sortileges  and  for  witch- 
eries ;  whereby  she  hath  maddened  the  blood,  and  be- 
sotted the  brain,  not  of  a  churl,  but  of  a  Knight  —  not 
of  a  secular  Knight,  but  of  one  devoted  to  the  service  of 
the  Holy  Temple  —  not  of  a  Knight  Companion,  but 
of  a  Preceptor  of  our  Order,  first  in  honour  as  in  place. 
Our  brother,  Brian  de  Bois-GJ-uilbert,  is  well  known  to 
ourselves,  and  to  all  degrees  who  now  hear  me,  as  a  true 
and  zealous  champion  of  the  Cross,  by  whose  arm  many 
deeds  of  valour  have  been  wrought  in  the  Holy  Land, 
and  the  holy  places  purified  from  pollution  by  the  blood 
of  those  infidels  who  defiled  them.  Neither  have  our 
brother's  sagacity  and  prudence  been  less  in  repute  among 
his  brethren  than  his  valour  and  discipline ;  insomuch 
that  knights,  both  in  eastern  and  western  lands,  have 
named  De  Bois-Guilbert  as  one  who  may  well   be   put 


IVANHOE.  397 

in  nomination  as  successor  to  this  batoon,  when  it  shall 
please  Heaven  to  release  us  from  the  toil  of  bearing  it. 
If  we  were  told  that  such  a  man,  so  honoured,  and  so 
honourable,  suddenly  casting  away  regard  for  his  char- 
acter, his  vows,  his  brethren,  and  his  prospects,  had 
associated  to  himself  a  Jewish  damsel,  wandered  in  this 
lewd  company  through  solitary  places,  defended  her 
person  in  preference  to  his  own,  and,  finally,  was  so 
utterly  blinded  and  besotted  by  his  folly,  as  to  bring  her 
even  to  one  of  our  own  Preceptories,  what  should  we  say 
but  that  the  noble  knight  was  possessed  by  some  evil 
demon,  or  influenced  by  some  wicked  spell  ?  —  If  we 
could  suppose  it  otherwise,  think  not  rank,  valour,  high 
repute,  or  any  earthly  consideration,  should  prevent  us 
from  visiting  him  with  punishment,  that  the  evil  thing 
might  be  removed,  even  according  to  the  text,  Auferte 
malum  ex  vobis.  For  various  and  heinous  are  the  acts  of 
transgression  against  the  rule  of  our  blessed  Order  in 
this  lamentable  history  —  1st,  He  hath  walked  accord- 
ing to  his  proper  will,  contrary  to  capital  33,  Quod 
nullus  juxta  propriam  voluntatem  incedat — 2d,  He  hath 
held  communication  with  an  excommunicated  person, 
capital  57,  Ut  ft -aires  non  participent  cum  excommunicatis, 
and  therefore  hath  a  portion  in  Anathema  Maranatha  — 
3d,  He  hath  conversed  with  strange  women,  contrary  to 
the  capital,  Ut  fratres  non  conversentur  cum  extraneis 
mulieribus  —  4th,  He  hath  not  avoided,  nay,  he  hath,  it 
is  to  be  feared,  solicited,  the  kiss  of  woman,  by  which, 
saith  the  last  rule  of  our  renowned  Order,  Ut  fugiantur 
oscida,  the  soldiers  of  the  Cross  are  brought  into  a 
snare.  For  which  heinous  and  multiplied  guilt,  Brian 
de  Bois-Guilbert  should  be  cut  off  and  cast  out  from  our 
congregation,  were  he  the  right  hand  and  right  eye 
thereof." 

He  paused.  A  low  murmur  went  through  the  assem- 
bly. Some  of  the  younger  part,  who  had  been  inclined 
to  smile  at  the  statute,  De  osculis  fugiendis,  became  now 
grave  enough,  and  anxiously  waited  what  the  Grand 
Master  was  next  to  propose. 

"  Such,"  he  said,  "  and  so  great  should  indeed  be  the 


398  IVANHOE. 

punishment  of  a  Knight  Templar  who  wilfully  offended 
against  the  rules  of  his  Order  in  such  weighty  points. 
But  if,  by  means  of  charms  and  of  spells,  Satan  had  ob- 
tained dominion  over  the  Knight,  perchance  because  he 
cast  his  eyes  too  lightly  upon  a  damsel's  beauty,  we  are 
then  rather  to  lament  than  chastise  his  backsliding ;  and, 
imposing  on  him  only  such  penance  as  may  purify  him 
from  his  iniquity,  we  are  to  turn  the  full  edge  of  our 
indignation  upon  the  accursed  instrument,  which  had 
so  well-nigh  occasioned  his  utter  falling  away.  —  Stand 
forth,  therefore,  and  bear  witness,  ye  who  have  witnessed 
these  unhappy  doings,  that  we  may  judge  of  the  sum  and 
bearing  thereof;  and  judge  whether  our  justice  may  be 
satisfied  with  the  punishment  of  this  infidel  woman,  or 
if  we  must  go  on,  with  a  bleeding  heart,  to  the  further 
proceeding  against  our  brother." 

Several  witnesses  were  called  upon  to  prove  the  risks 
to  which  Bois-Guilbert  exposed  himself  in  endeavouring 
to  save  Rebecca  from  the  blazing  castle,  and  his  neglect 
of  his  personal  defence  in  attending  to  her  safety.  The 
men  gave  these  details  with  the  exaggerations  common 
to  vulgar  minds  which  have  been  strongly  excited  by 
any  remarkable  event,  and  their  natural  disposition  to 
the  marvellous  was  greatly  increased  by  the  satisfaction 
which  their  evidence  seemed  to  afford  to  the  eminent 
person  for  whose  information  it  had  been  delivered. 
Thus  the  dangers  which  Bois-Guilbert  surmounted,  in 
themselves  sufficiently  great,  became  portentous  in  their 
narrative.  The  devotion  of  the  Knight  to  Rebecca's  de- 
fence was  exaggerated  beyond  the  bounds  not  only  of 
discretion,  but  even  of  the  most  frantic  excess  of  chival- 
rous zeal;  and  his  deference  to  what  she  said,  even  al- 
though her  language  was  often  severe  and  upbraiding, 
was  painted  as  carried  to  an  excess  which,  in  a  man  of 
his  haughty  temper,  seemed  almost  preternatural. 

The  Preceptor  of  Templestowe  was  then  called  on  tc 
describe  the  manner  in  which  Bois-Guilbert  and  the 
Jewess  arrived  at  the  Preceptory.  The  evidence  of 
Malvoisin  was  skilfully  guarded.  But  while  he  appar- 
ently studied  to  spare  the  feelings  of  Bois-Guilbert,  he 


IVANHOE.  399 

threw  in,  from  time  to  time,  such  hints  as  seemed  to 
infer  that  he  laboured  under  some  temporary  alienation 
of  mind,  so  deeply  did  he  appear  to  be  enamoured  of  the 
damsel  whom  he  brought  along  with  him.  With  sighs 
of  penitence,  the  Preceptor  avowed  his  own  contrition 
for  having  admitted  Rebecca  and  her  lover  within  the 
walls  of  the  Preceptory.  "  But  my  defence,"  he  con- 
cluded, "has  been  made  in  my  confession  to  our  most 
reverend  father  the  Grand  Master ;  he  knows  my  motives 
were  not  evil,  though  my  conduct  may  have  been  irregu- 
lar. Joyfully  will  I  submit  to  any  penance  he  shall 
assign  me." 

"  Thou  hast  spoken  well,  brother  Albert,"  said  Beau- 
manoir  ;  "thy  motives  were  good,  since  thou  didst  judge 
it  right  to  arrest  thine  erring  brother  in  his  career  of 
precipitate  folly.  But  thy  conduct  was  wrong;  as  he 
that  would  stop  a  runaway  steed,  and  seizing  by  the 
stirrup  instead  of  the  bridle,  receiveth  injury  himself, 
instead  of  accomplishing  his  purpose.  Thirteen  pater- 
nosters are  assigned  by  our  pious  founder  for  matins,  and 
nine  for  vespers ;  be  those  services  doubled  by  thee. 
Thrice  a-week  are  Templars  permitted  the  use  of  flesh ; 
but  do  thou  keep  fast  for  all  the  seven  days.  This  do 
for  six  weeks  to  come,  and  thy  penance  is  accomplished." 

With  a  hypocritical  look  of  the  deepest  submission,  the 
Preceptor  of  Templestowe  bowed  to  the  ground  before  his 
superior,  and  resumed  his  seat. 

"  Were  it  not  well,  brethren,"  said  the  Grand  Master, 
"that  we  examine  something  into  the  former  life  and 
conversation  of  this  woman,  specially  that  we  may  dis- 
cover whether  she  be  one  likely  to  use  magical  charms 
and  spells,  since  the  truths  which  we  have  heard  may 
well  incline  us  to  suppose  that  in  this  unhappy  course 
our  erring  brother  has  been  acted  upon  by  some  infernal 
enticement  and  delusion  ?  " 

Herman  of  Goodalricke  was  the  fourth  Preceptor  pres- 
ent ;  the  other  three  were  Conrade,  Malvoisin,  and  Bois- 
Guilbert  himself.  Herman  was  an  ancient  warrior,  whose 
face  was  marked  with  scars  inflicted  by  the  sabre  of  the 
Moslemah,  and  had  great  rank  and  consideration  among 


400  IVANHOE. 

his  brethren.  He  arose  and  bowed  to  the  Grand  Mas- 
ter, who  instantly  granted  him  license  of  speech.  "I 
would  crave  to  know,  most  reverend  father,  of  our  val- 
iant brother,  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  what  he  says  to 
these  wondrous  accusations,  and  with  what  eye  he  him- 
self now  regards  his  unhappy  intercourse  with  this  Jew- 
ish maiden  ?  " 

"  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,''  said  the  Grand  Master, 
"  thou  nearest  the  question  which  our  Brother  of  Goodal- 
ricke  desirest  thou  shouldst  answer.  I  command  thee 
to  reply  to  him." 

Bois-Guilbert  turned  his  head  towards  the  Grand  Master 
when  thus  addressed,  and  remained  silent. 

"  He  is  possessed  by  a  dumb  devil,"  said  the  Grand 
Master.  "  Avoid  thee,  Sathanas  !  —  Speak,  Brian  de 
Bois-Guilbert,  I  conjure  thee,  by  this  symbol  of  our  Holy 
Order." 

Bois-Guilbert  made  an  effort  to  suppress  his  rising 
scorn  and  indignation,  the  expression  of  which,  he  was 
well  aware,  would  have  little  availed  him.  "  Brian  de 
Bois-Guilbert,"  he  answered,  "  replies  not,  most  reverend 
father,  to  such  wild  and  vague  charges.  If  his  honour 
be  impeached,  he  will  defend  it  with  his  body,  and  with 
that  sword  which  has  often  fought  for  Christendom." 

"  We  forgive  thee,  Brother  Brian,"  said  the  Grand  Mas- 
ter ;  "  though  that  thou  hast  boasted  thy  warlike  achieve- 
ments before  us  is  a  glorifying  of  thine  own  deeds,  and 
cometh  of  the  Enemy,  who  tempteth  us  to  exalt  our  own 
worship.  But  thou  hast  our  pardon,  judging  thou  speak - 
est  less  of  thine  own  suggestion  than  from  the  impulse 
of  him  whom,  by  Heaven's  leave,  we  will  quell  and  drive 
forth  from  our  assembly."  A  glance  of  disdain  flashed 
from  the  dark  fierce  eyes  of  Bois-Guilbert,  but  he  made 
no  reply.  —  "  And  now,"  pursued  the  Grand  Master,  "  since 
our  Brother  of  Goodalricke's  question  has  been  thus  im- 
perfectly answered,  pursue  we  our  quest,  brethren,  and 
with  our  patron's  assistance  we  will  search  to  the  bottom 
this  mystery  of  iniquity.  Let  those  who  have  aught  to 
witness  of  the  life  and  conversation  of  this  Jewish  woman 
stand  forth  before  us." 


IVANHOE.  401 

There  was  a  bustle  in  the  lower  part  of  the  hall,  and 
when  the  Grand  Master  inquired  the  reason,  it  was  re- 
plied, there  was  in  the  crowd  a  bedridden  man,  whom  the 
prisoner  had  restored  to  the  perfect  use  of  his  limbs,  by  a 
miraculous  balsam. 

The  poor  peasant,  a  Saxon  by  birth,  was  dragged  for- 
ward to  the  bar,  terrified  at  the  penal  consequences  which 
he  might  have  incurred  by  the  guilt  of  having  been  cured 
of  the  palsy  by  a  Jewish  damsel.  Perfectly  cured  he  cer- 
tainly was  not,  for  he  supported  himself  forward  on  crutches 
to  give  evidence.  Most  unwilling  was  his  testimony,  and 
given  with  many  tears ;  but  he  admitted  that  two  years 
since,  when  residing  at  York,  he  was  suddenly  afflicted 
with  a  sore  disease,  while  labouring  for  Isaac  the  rich 
Jew,  in  his  vocation  of  a  joiner ;  that  he  had  been  unable 
to  stir  from  his  bed  until  the  remedies  applied  by  Re- 
becca's directions,  and  especially  a  warming  and  spicy- 
smelling  balsam,  had  in  some  degree  restored  him  to  the 
use  of  his  limbs.  Moreover,  he  said,  she  had  given  him 
a  pot  of  that  precious  ointment,  and  furnished  him  with 
a  piece  of  money  withal,  to  return  to  the  house  of  his 
father,  near  to  Templestowe.  "  And  may  it  please  your 
gracious  Reverence,"  said  the  man,  "  I  cannot  think  the 
damsel  meant  harm  by  me,  though  she  hath  the  ill  hap 
to  be  a  Jewess ;  for  even  when  I  used  her  remedy,  I  said 
the  Pater  and  the  Creed,  and  it  never  operated  a  whit  less 
kindly." 

"  Peace,  slave,"  said  the  Grand  Master,  "  and  begone ! 
It  well  suits  brutes  like  thee  to  be  tampering  and  trinket- 
ing  with  hellish  cures,  and  to  be  giving  your  labour  to  the 
sons  of  mischief.  I  tell  thee,  the  fiend  can  impose  diseases 
for  the  very  purpose  of  removing  them,  in  order  to  bring 
into  credit  some  diabolical  fashion  of  cure.  Hast  thou 
that  unguent  of  which  thou  speakest  ?  " 

The  peasant,  fumbling  in  his  bosom  with  a  trembling 
hand,  produced  a  small  box,  bearing  some  Hebrew  char- 
acters on  the  lid,  which  was,  with  most  of  the  audience, 
a  sure  proof  that  the  devil  had  stood  apothecary.  Beau- 
manoir,  after  crossing  himself,  took  the  box  into  his  hand, 
and,  learned  in  most  of  the  Eastern  tongues,  read  with 
2d 


402  IVANHOE. 

ease  the  motto  on  the  lid :  "  The  Lion  of  the  Tribe  of 
Judah  hath  conquered."  "Strange  powers  of  Sathanas," 
said  he,  "which  can  convert  Scripture  into  blasphemy, 
mingling  poison  with  our  necessary  food! — Is  there  no 
leech  here  who  can  tell  us  the  ingredients  of  this  mystic 
unguent  ? " 

Two  mediciners,  as  they  call  themselves,  the  one  a 
monk,  the  other  a  barber,  appeared,  and  avouched  they 
knew  nothing  of  the  materials,  excepting  that  they  sa- 
voured of  myrrh  and  camphire,  which  they  took  to  be 
Oriental  herbs.  But  with  the  true  professional  hatred  to 
a  successful  practitioner  of  their  art,  they  insinuated  that, 
since  the  medicine  was  beyond  their  own  knowledge,  it 
must  necessarily  have  been  compounded  from  an  unlaw- 
ful and  magical  pharmacopoeia;  since  they  themselves, 
though  no  conjurors,  fully  understood  every  branch  of 
their  art,  so  far  as  it  might  be  exercised  with  the  good 
faith  of  a  Christian.  When  this  medical  research  was 
ended,  the  Saxon  peasant  desired  humbly  to  have  back 
the  medicine  which  he  had  found  so  salutary ;  but  the 
Grand  Master  frowned  severely  at  the  request.  "  What 
is  thy  name,  fellow  ?  "  said  he  to  the  cripple. 

"Higg,  the  son  of  Snell,"  answered  the  peasant. 

"  Then,  Higg,  son  of  Snell,"  said  the  G-rand  Master,  "  I 
tell  thee,  it  is  better  to  be  bedridden  than  to  accept  the 
benefit  of  unbelievers'  medicine  that  thou  mayest  arise 
and  walk ;  better  to  despoil  infidels  of  their  treasure  by 
the  strong  hand  than  to  accept  of  them  benevolent  gifts, 
or  do  them  service  for  wages.  Go  thou,  and  do  as  I  have 
said." 

"  Alack,"  said  the  peasant,  "  an  it  shall  not  displease 
your  Reverence,  the  lesson  comes  too  late  for  me,  for  I 
am  but  a  maimed  man  ;  but  I  will  tell  my  two  brethren, 
who  serve  the  rich  rabbi  Nathan  ben  Samuel  that  your 
mastership  says  it  is  more  lawful  to  rob  him  than  to  ren- 
der him  faithful  service." 

"  Out  with  the  prating  villain ! "  said  Beaumanoir, 
who  was  not  prepared  to  refute  this  practical  application 
of  his  general  maxim. 

Higg,  the  son  of  Snell,  withdrew  into  the  crowd,  but, 


TVANHOE.  403 

interested  in  the  fate  of  his  benefactress,  lingered  until 
he  should  learn  her  doom,  even  at  the  risk  of  again  en- 
countering the  frown  of  that  severe  judge,  the  terror  of 
which  withered  his  very  heart  within  him. 

At  this  period  of  the  trial,  the  Grand  Master  com- 
manded R-ebecca  to  unveil  herself.  Opening  her  lips  for 
the  first  time,  she  replied  patiently,  but  with  dignity, 
that  it  was  not  the  wont  of  the  daughters  of  her  people 
to  uncover  their  faces  when  alone  in  an  assembly  of  stran- 
gers. The  sweet  tones  of  her  voice,  and  the  softness  of 
her  reply,  impressed  on  the  audience  a  sentiment  of  pity 
and  sympathy.  But  Beaumanoir,  in  whose  mind  the  sup- 
pression of  each  feeling  of  humanity  which  could  interfere 
with  his  imagined  duty,  was  a  virtue  of  itself,  repeated  his 
commands  that  his  victim  should  be  unveiled.  The  guards 
were  about  to  remove  her  veil  accordingly,  when  she  stood 
up  before  the  Grand  Master,  and  said,  "  Nay,  but  for  the 
love  of  your  own  daughters  —  alas,"  she  said,  recollecting 
herself,  "  ye  have  no  daughters !  —  yet  for  the  remem- 
brance of  your  mothers,  for  the  love  of  your  sisters,  and 
of  female  decency,  let  me  not  be  thus  handled  in  your 
presence ;  it  suits  not  a  maiden  to  be  disrobed  by  such 
rude  grooms.  I  will  obey  you,"  she  added,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  patient  sorrow  in  her  voice,  which  had  almost 
melted  the  heart  of  Beaumanoir  himself;  "ye  are  elders 
among  your  people,  and  at  your  command  I  will  show  the 
features  of  an  ill-fated  maiden." 

She  withdrew  her  veil,  and  looked  on  them  with  a  coun- 
tenance in  which  bashfulness  contended  with  dignity. 
Her  exceeding  beauty  excited  a  murmur  of  surprise,  and 
the  younger  knights  told  each  other  with  their  eyes,  in 
silent  correspondence,  that  Brian's  best  apology  was  in 
the  power  of  her  real  charms,  rather  than  of  her  imagi- 
nary witchcraft.  But  Higg,  the  son  of  Snell,  felt  most 
deeply  the  effect  produced  by  the  sight  of  the  counte- 
nance of  his  benefactress.  "Let  me  go  forth,"  he  said 
to  the  warders  at  the  door  of  the  hall  —  "  let  me  go  forth  ! 
To  look  at  her  again  will  kill  me,  for  I  have  had  a  share 
in  murdering  her." 

"  Peace,  poor  man,"  said  Rebecca,  when  she  heard  his 


404  IVANHOE. 

exclamation  — • "  thou  hast  done  me  no  harm  by  speaking 
the  truth ;  thou  canst  not  aid  me  by  thy  complaints  or 
lamentations.  Peace,  I  pray  thee  —  go  home  and  save 
thyself." 

Higg  was  about  to  be  thrust  out  by  the  compassion  of 
the  warders,  who  were  apprehensive  lest  his  clamorous 
grief  should  draw  upon  them  reprehension,  and  upon 
himself  punishment.  But  he  promised  to  be  silent,  and 
was  permitted  to  remain.  The  two  men-at-arms,  with 
whom  Albert  Malvoisin  had  not  failed  to  communicate 
upon  the  import  of  their  testimony,  were  now  called  for- 
ward. Though  both  were  hardened  and  inflexible  vil- 
lains, the  sight  of  the  captive  maiden,  as  well  as  her 
excelling  beauty,  at  first  appeared  to  stagger  them ;  but 
an  expressive  glance  from  the  Preceptor  of  Templestowe 
restored  them  to  their  dogged  composure ;  and  they  de- 
livered, with  a  precision  which  would  have  seemed  sus- 
picious to  more  impartial  judges,  circumstances  either 
altogether  fictitious  or  trivial,  and  natural  in  themselves, 
but  rendered  pregnant  with  suspicion  by  the  exaggerated 
manner  in  which  they  were  told,  and  the  sinister  com- 
mentary which  the  witnesses  added  to  the  facts.  The 
circumstances  of  their  evidence  would  have  been,  in  mod- 
ern days,  divided  into  two  classes  —  those  which  were 
immaterial,  and  those  which  were  actually  and  physi- 
cally impossible.  But  both  were,  in  those  ignorant  and 
superstitious  times,  easily  credited  as  proofs  of  guilt. 
The  first  class  set  forth  ,that  Rebecca  was  heard  to  mut- 
ter to  herself  in  an  unknown  tongue ;  that  the  songs  she 
sung  by  fits  were  of  a  strangely  sweet  sound,  which  made 
the  ears  of  the  hearer  tingle  and  his  heart  throb ;  that 
she  spoke  at  times  to  herself,  and  seemed  to  look  upward 
for  a  reply ;  that  her  garments  were  of  a  strange  and 
mystic  form,  unlike  those  of  women  of  good  repute  ;  that 
she  had  rings  impressed  with  cabalistical  devices,  and 
that  strange  characters  were  broidered  on  her  veil.  All 
these  circumstances,  so  natural  and  so  trivial,  were 
gravely  listened  to  as  proofs,  or  at  least  as  affording 
strong  suspicions,  that  Rebecca  had  unlawful  corre- 
spondence with  mystical  powers. 


IVANHOE.  405 

But  there  was  less  equivocal  testimony,  wnich  the 
credulity  of  the  assembly,  or  of  the  greater  part,  greedily 
swallowed,  however  incredible.  One  of  the  soldiers  had 
seen  her  work  a  cure  upon  a  wounded  man  brought  with 
them  to  the  castle  of  Torquilstone.  She  did,  he  said, 
make  certain  signs  upon  the  wound,  and  repeated  certain 
mysterious  words,  which  he  blessed  God  he  understood 
not,  when  the  iron  head  of  a  square  cross-bow  bolt  dis- 
engaged itself  from  the  wound,  the  bleeding  was  stanched, 
the  wound  was  closed,  and  the  dying  man  was,  within  the 
quarter  of  an  hour,  walking  upon  the  ramparts,  and  as- 
sisting the  witness  in  managing  a  mangonel,  or  machine 
for  hurling  stones.  This  legend  was  probably  founded 
upon  the  fact  that  Rebecca  had  attended  on  the  wounded 
Ivanhoe  when  in  the  castle  of  Torquilstone.  But  it  was 
the  more  difficult  to  dispute  the  accuracy  of  the  witness, 
as,  in  order  to  produce  real  evidence  in  support  of  his 
verbal  testimony,  he  drew  from  his  pouch  the  very  bolt- 
head  which,  according  to  his  story,  had  been  miraculously 
extracted  from  the  wound ;  and  as  the  iron  weighed  a  full 
ounce,  it  completely  confirmed  the  tale,  however  marvel- 
lous. 

His  comrade  had  been  a  witness  from  a  neighbouring 
battlement  of  the  scene  betwixt  Rebecca  and  Bois-Guilbert, 
when  she  was  upon  the  point  of  precipitating  herself  from 
the  top  of  the  tower.  Not  to  be  behind  his  companion, 
this  fellow  stated  that  he  had  seen  Rebecca  perch  herself 
upon  the  parapet  of  the  turret,  and  there  take  the  form 
of  a  milk-white  swan,  under  which  appearance  she  flitted 
three  times  round  the  castle  of  Torquilstone ;  then  again 
settle  on  the  turret,  and  once  more  assume  the  female 
form. 

Less  than  one  half  of  this  weighty  evidence  would 
have  been  sufficient  to  convict  any  old  woman,  poor  and 
ugly,  even  though  she  had  not  been  a  Jewess.  United 
with  that  fatal  circumstance,  the  body  of  proof  was  too 
weighty  for  Rebecca's  youth,  though  combined  with  the 
most  exquisite  beauty. 

The  Grand  Master  had  collected  the  suffrages,  and  now 
in  a  solemn  tone  demanded  of  Rebecca  what  she  had  to 


406  IVANHOE. 

say  against  the  sentence  of  condemnation  which  he  was 
about  to  pronounce. 

"  To  invoke  your  pity,"  said  the  lovely  Jewess,  with  a 
voice  somewhat  tremulous  with  emotion,  "  would,  I  am 
aware,  be  as  useless  as  I  should  hold  it  mean.  To  state, 
that  to  relieve  the  sick  and  wounded  of  another  religion 
cannot  be  displeasing  to  the  acknowledged  Founder  of 
both  our  faiths,  were  also  unavailing ;  to  plead,  that  many 
things  which  these  men — whom  may  Heaven  pardon!  — 
have  spoken  against  me  are  impossible,  would  avail  me 
but  little,  since  you  believe  in  their  possibility ;  and  still 
less  would  it  advantage  me  to  explain  that  the  peculiarities 
of  my  dress,  language,  and  manners  are  those  of  my  people 
—  I  had  well-nigh  said  of  my  country,  but,  alas !  we  have 
no  country.  Nor  will  I  even  vindicate  myself  at  the  ex- 
pense of  my  oppressor,  who  stands  there  listening  to  the 
fictions  and  surmises  which  seem  to  convert  the  tyrant 
into  the  victim. —  God  be  judge  between  him  and  me!  but 
rather  would  I  submit  to  ten  such  deaths  as  your  pleasure 
may  denounce  against  me  than  listen  to  the  suit  which 
that  man  of  Belial  has  urged  upon  me — friendless,  de- 
fenceless, and  his  prisoner.  But  he  is  of  your  own  faith, 
and  his  lightest  affirmance  would  weigh  down  the  most 
solemn  protestations  of  the  distressed  Jewess.  I  will  not 
therefore  return  to  himself  the  charge  brought  against 
me;  but  to  himself — yes,  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  to  thy- 
self I  appeal,  whether  these  accusations  are  not  false  ?  as 
monstrous  and  calumnious  as  they  are  deadly  ?  " 

There  was  a  pause ;  all  eyes  turned  to  Brian  de  Bois- 
Guilbert.     He  was  silent. 

"  Speak,"  she  said,  "  if  thou  art  a  man ;  if  thou  art  a 
Christian,  speak  !  I  conjure  thee,  by  the  habit  which  thou 
dost  wear  —  by  the  name  thou  dost  inherit  —  by  the 
knighthood  thou  dost  vaunt  —  by  the  honour  of  thy 
mother  —  by  the  tomb  and  the  bones  of  thy  father  —  I 
conjure  thee  to  say,  are  these  things  true  ?  " 

"  Answer  her,  Brother,"  said  the  Grand  Master,  "  if  the 
Enemy  with  whom  thou  dost  wrestle  will  give  thee  power." 

In  fact,  Bois-Guilbert  seemed  agitated  by  contending 
passions,  which  almost  convulsed  his  features,  and  it  was 


& 


^1 


mm 


•  I'      r 


V 


^o     thyself    J  Appeal  * 


IVANHOE.  407 

with  a  constrained  voice  that  at  last  he  replied,  looking 
to  Rebecca :  "  The  scroll !  —  the  scroll !  " 

"  Ay,"  said  Beaumanoir,  "  this  is  indeed  testimony ! 
The  victim  of  her  witcheries  can  only  name  the  fatal 
scroll,  the  spell  inscribed  on  which  is,  doubtless,  the 
cause  of  his  silence." 

But  Rebecca  put  another  interpretation  on  the  words 
extorted  as  it  were  from  Bois-Guilbert,  and  glancing  her 
eye  upon  the  slip  of  parchment  which  she  continued  to 
hold  in  her  hand,  she  read  written  thereupon  in  the 
Arabian  character,  "  Demand  a  champion  !  "  The  mur- 
muring commentary  which  ran  through  the  assembly  at 
the  strange  reply  of  Bois-Guilbert  gave  Rebecca  leisure 
to  examine  and  instantly  to  destroy  the  scroll  unobserved. 
When  the  whisper  had  ceased,  the  Grand  Master  spoke. 

"  Rebecca,  thou  canst  derive  no  benefit  from  the  evi- 
dence of  this  unhappy  knight,  for  whom,  as  we  well  per- 
ceive, the  Enemy  is  yet  too  powerful.  Hast  thou  aught 
else  to  say  ?  " 

"There  is  yet  one  chance  of  life  left  to  me,"  said  Re- 
becca, "even  by  your  own  fierce  laws.  Life  has  been 
miserable  —  miserable,  at  least,  of  late  —  but  I  will  not 
cast  away  the  gift  of  God  while  He  affords  me  the  means 
of  defending  it.  I  deny  this  charge  —  I  maintain  my 
innocence,  and  I  declare  the  falsehood  of  this  accusation 
—  I  challenge  the  privilege  of  trial  by  combat,  and  will 
appear  by  my  champion." 

"  And  who,  Rebecca,"  replied  the  Grand  Master,  "  will 
lay  lance  in  rest  for  a  sorceress  ?  who  will  be  the  cham- 
pion of  a  Jewess  ?  " 

"  God  will  raise  me  up  a  champion,"  said  Rebecca.  "  It 
cannot  be  that  in  merry  England  —  the  hospitable,  the 
generous,  the  free,  where  so  many  are  ready  to  peril 
their  lives  for  honour,  there  will  not  be  found  one  to 
fight  for  justice.  But  it  is  enough  that  I  challenge  the 
trial  by  combat  —  there  lies  my  gage." 

She  took  her  embroidered  glove  from  her  hand,  and 
flung  it  down  before  the  Grand  Master  with  an  air  of 
mingled  simplicity  and  dignity,  which  excited  universal 
surprise  and  admiration. 


408  IVANHOE. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

There  I  throw  my  gage, 
To  prove  it  on  thee  to  the  extremest  point 
Of  martial  daring. 

Bi chard  II. 

Even-  Lucas  Beaumanoir  himself  was  affected  by  the 
mien  and  appearance  of  Rebecca.  He  was  not  originally 
a  cruel  or  even  a  severe  man;  but  with  passions  by  na- 
ture cold,  and  with,  a  high,  though  mistaken,  sense  of 
duty,  his  heart  had  been  gradually  hardened  by  the  as- 
cetic life  which  he  pursued,  the  supreme  power  which 
he  enjoyed,  and  the  supposed  necessity  of  subduing  infi- 
delity and  eradicating  heresy  which  he  conceived  pecul- 
iarly incumbent  on  him.  His  features  relaxed  in  their 
usual  severity  as  he  gazed  upon  the  beautiful  creature 
before  him,  alone,  unfriended,  and  defending  herself  with 
so  much  spirit  and  courage.  He  crossed  himself  twice, 
as  doubting  whence  arose  the  unwonted  softening  of  a 
heart,  which  on  such  occasions  used  to  resemble  in  hard- 
ness the  steel  of  his  sword.     At  length  he  spoke. 

"  Damsel,"  he  said,  "  if  the  pity  I  feel  for  thee  arise 
from  any  practice  thine  evil  arts  have  made  on  me,  great 
is  thy  guilt.  But  I  rather  judge  it  the  kinder  feelings 
of  nature,  which  grieves  that  so  goodly  a  form  should 
be  a  vessel  of  perdition.  Repent,  my  daughter  —  confess 
thy  witchcrafts  —  turn  thee  from  thy  evil  faith  —  em- 
brace this  holy  emblem,  and  all  shall  yet  be  well  with 
thee  here  and  hereafter.  In  some  sisterhood  of  the  strict- 
est order  shalt  thou  have  time  for  prayer  and  fitting  pen- 
ance, and  that  repentance  not  to  be  repented  of.  This 
do  and  live  —  what  has  the  law  of  Moses  done  for  thee, 
that  thou  shouldst  die  for  it  ?  " 

"  It  was  the  law  of  my  fathers,"  said  Rebecca ;  "  it  was 
delivered  in  thunders  and  in  storms  upon  the  mountain 
of  Sinai,  in  cloud  and  in  fire.  This,  if  ye  are  Christians, 
ye  believe.  It  is,  you  say,  recalled;  but  so  my  teachers 
have  not  taught  me." 


IVAXHOE.  409 

"Let  our  chaplain,"  said  Beaumanoir,  "stand  forth, 
and  tell  this  obstinate  infidel " 

"Forgive  the  interruption,"  said  Rebecca,  meekly;  "I 
arn  a  maiden,  unskilled  to  dispute  for  my  religion ;  but 
I  can  die  for  it,  if  it  be  God's  will.  —  Let  me  pray  your 
answer  to  my  demand  of  a  champion." 

"  Give  me  her  glove,"  said  Beaumanoir.  "  This  is  in- 
deed," he  continued,  as  he  looked  at  the  flimsy  texture 
and  slender  fingers,  "  a  slight  and  frail  gage  for  a  purpose 
so  deadly !  —  Seest  thou,  Rebecca,  as  this  thin  and  light 
glove  of  thine  is  to  one  of  our  heavy  steel  gauntlets,  so 
is  thy  cause  to  that  of  the  Temple,  for  it  is  our  Order 
which  thou  hast  defied." 

"  Cast  my  innocence  into  the  scale,"  answered  Rebecca, 
"and  the  glove  of  silk  shall  outweigh  the  glove  of 
iron." 

"Then  thou  dost  persist  in  thy  refusal  to  confess  thy 
guilt,  and  in  that  bold  challenge  which  thou  hast  made  ?  " 

"  I  do  persist,  noble  sir,"  answered  Rebecca. 

"  So  be  it  then,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,"  said  the  Grand 
Master ;  "  and  may  God  show  the  right !  " 

"Amen,"  replied  the  Preceptors  around  him,  and  the 
word  was  deeply  echoed  by  the  whole  assembly. 

"  Brethren,"  said  Beaumanoir,  "  you  are  aware  that  we 
might  well  have  refused  to  this  woman  the  benefit  of  the 
trial  by  combat  —  but,  though  a  Jewess  and  an  unbe- 
liever, she  is  also  a  stranger  and  defenceless,  and  God 
forbid  that  she  should  ask  the  benefit  of  our  mild  laws, 
and  that  it  should  be  refused  to  her.  Moreover,  we  are 
knights  and  soldiers  as  well  as  men  of  religion,  and 
shame  it  were  to  us,  upon  any  pretence,  to  refuse  prof- 
fered combat.  Thus,  therefore,  stands  the  case :  Rebecca, 
the  daughter  of  Isaac  of  York,  is,  by  many  frequent  and 
suspicious  circumstances,  defamed  of  sorcery  practised 
on  the  person  of  a  noble  knight  of  our  Holy  Order,  and 
hath  challenged  the  combat  in  proof  of  her  innocence. 
To  whom,  reverend  brethren,  is  it  your  opinion  that  we 
should  deliver  the  gage  of  battle,  naming  him,  at  the 
same  time,  to  be  our  champion  on  the  field  ?  " 

"  To  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  whom  it  chiefly  concerns/' 


410  IVANHOE. 

said  the  Preceptor  of  Goodalricke,  "  and  who,  moreover, 
best  knows  how  the  truth  stands  in  this  matter." 

"  But  if,"  said  the  Grand  Master,  "  our  brother  Brian 
be  under  the  influence  of  a  charm  or  a  spell  —  we  speak 
but  for  the  sake  of  precaution,  for  to  the  arm  of  none 
of  our  Holy  Order  would  we  more  willingly  confide  this 
or  a  more  weighty  cause." 

"  Reverend  father,"  answered  the  Preceptor  of  Goodal- 
ricke,  "  no  spell  can  affect  the  champion  who  comes  for- 
ward to  fight  for  the  judgment  of  God." 

"  Thou  sayest  right,  brother,"  said  the  Grand  Master. 
"  Albert  Malvoisin,  give  this  gage  of  battle  tu  Brian  de 
Bois-Guilbert.  —  It  is  our  charge  to  thee,  brother,"  he 
continued,  addressing  himself  to  Bois-Guilbert,  "that 
thou  do  thy  battle  manfully,  nothing  doubting  that  the 
good  cause  shall  triumph.  —  And  do  thou,  Rebecca,  at- 
tend, that  we  assign  thee  the  third  day  from  the  present 
to  find  a  champion." 

"That  is  but  brief  space,"  answered  Rebecca,  "for  a 
stranger  who  is  also  of  another  faith,  to  find  one  who  will 
do  battle,  wagering  life  and  honour  for  her  cause,  against 
a  knight  who  is  called  an  approved  soldier." 

"  We  may  not  extend  it,"  answered  the  Grand  Master ; 
"the  field  must  be  foughten  in  our  presence,  and  divers 
weighty  causes  call  us  on  the  fourth  day  from  hence." 

"  God's  will  be  done ! "  said  Rebecca ;  "  I  put  my 
trust  in  Him,  to  whom  an  instant  is  as  effectual  to  save 
as  a  whole  age." 

"Thou  hast  spoken  well,  damsel,"  said  the  Grand 
Master ;  "  but  well  know  we  who  can  array  himself  like 
an  angel  of  light.  It  remains  but  to  name  a  fitting  place 
of  combat,  and,  if  it  so  hap,  also  of  execution.  —  Where 
is  the  Preceptor  of  this  house  ?  " 

Albert  Malvoisin,  still  holding  Rebecca's  glove  in  his 
hand,  was  speaking  to  Bois-Guilbert  very  earnestly,  but 
in  a  low  voice. 

"  How ! "  said  the  Grand  Master,  "  will  he  not  receive 
the  gage  ?  " 

"He  will  —  he  doth,  most  reverend  father,"  said 
Malvoisin,   slipping   the   glove   under  his  own  niantlQ, 


IVANHOE.  411 

"  And  for  the  place  of  combat,  I  hold  the  fittest  to  be 
the  lists  of  St.  George  belonging  to  this  Preceptory,  and 
used  by  us  for  military  exercise." 

"It  is  well,"  said  the  Grand  Master.  "Rebecca,  in 
those  lists  shalt  thou  produce  thy  champion ;  and  if  thou 
failest  to  do  so,  or  if  thy  champion  shall  be  discomfited 
by  the  judgment  of  God,  thou  shalt  then  die  the  death 
of  a  sorceress,  according  to  doom.  —  Let  this  our  judg- 
ment be  recorded,  and  the  record  read  aloud  that  no  one 
may  pretend  ignorance." 

One  of  the  chaplains  who  acted  as  clerks  to  the  chapter 
immediately  engrossed  the  order  in  a  huge  volume,  which 
contained  the  proceedings  of  the  Templar  Knights  when 
solemnly  assembled  on  such  occasions ;  and  when  he  had 
finished  writing,  the  other  read  aloud  the  sentence  of 
the  Grand  Master,  which,  when  translated  from  the 
Norman-French  in  which  it  was  couched,  was  expressed 
as  follows : 

"  Rebecca,  a  Jewess,  daughter  of  Isaac  of  York,  being  attainted 
of  sorcery,  seduction,  and  other  damnable  practices,  practised  on 
a  knight  of  the  most  Holy  Order  of  the  Temple  of  Zion,  doth 
deny  the  same,  and  saith  that  the  testimony  delivered  against  her 
this  day  is  false,  wicked,  and  disloyal ;  and  that  by  lawful  essoine 
of  her  body,  as  being  unable  to  combat  in  her  own  behalf,  she 
doth  offer,  by  a  champion  instead  thereof,  to  avouch  her  case,  he 
performing  his  loyal  devoir  in  all  knightly  sort,  with  such  arms 
as  to  gage  of  battle  do  fully  appertain,  and  that  at  her  peril  and 
cost.  And  therewith  she  proffered  her  gage.  And  the  gage  having 
been  delivered  to  the  noble  Lord  and  Knight,  Brian  de  Bois- 
Guilbert,  of  the  Holy  Order  of  the  Temple  of  Zion,  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  do  this  battle  in  behalf  of  his  Order  and  himself,  as 
injured  and  impaired  by  the  practices  of  the  appellant.  Where- 
fore the  most  reverend  Father  and  puissant  Lord,  Lucas  Marquis 
of  Beaumanoir,  did  allow  of  the  said  challenge,  and  of  the  said 
essoine  of  the  appellant's  body,  and  assigned  the  third  day  for  the 
said  combat,  the  place  being  the  inclosure  called  the  lists  of  St. 
George,  near  to  the  Preceptory  of  Templestowe.  And  the  Grand 
Master  appointed  the  appellant  to  appear  there  by  her  champion, 
on  pain  of  doom,  as  a  person  convicted  of  sorcery  or  seduction  ; 
and  also  the  defendant  so  to  appear,  under  the  penalty  of  being 
held  and  adjudged  recreant  in  case  of  default ;  and  the  noble 
Lord  and  most  reverend  Father  aforesaid  appointed  the  battle  to 
be  done  in  his  presence,  and  according  to  all  that  is  commendable 
and  profitable  in  such  a  case.     And  may  God  aid  the  just  cause  I " 


412  1VANH0E. 

"  Amen ! "  said  the  Grand  Master ;  and  the  word  was 
echoed  by  all  around.  Rebecca  spoke  not,  but  she 
looked  up  to  Heaven,  and,  folding  her  hands,  remained 
for  a  minute  without  change  of  attitude.  She  then 
modestly  reminded  the  Grand  Master  that  she  ought  to 
be  permitted  some  opportunity  of  free  communication 
with  her  friends,  for  the  purpose  of  making  her  condi- 
tion known  to  them,  and  procuring,  if  possible,  some 
champion  to  fight  in  her  behalf. 

"It  is  just  and  lawful,"  said  the  Grand  Master; 
"  choose  what  messenger  thou  shalt  trust,  and  he  shall 
have  free  communication  with  thee  in  thy  prison- 
chamber." 

"  Is  there,"  said  Rebecca,  "  any  one  here  who,  either 
for  love  of  a  good  cause  or  for  ample  hire,  will  do  the 
errand  of  a  distressed  being  ?  " 

All  were  silent;  for  none  thought  it  safe,  in  the 
presence  of  the  Grand  Master,  to  avow  any  interest  in 
the  calumniated  prisoner,  lest  he  should  be  suspected 
of  leaning  toward  Judaism.  Not  even  the  prospect  of 
reward,  far  less  any  feelings  of  compassion  alone,  could 
surmount  this  apprehension. 

Rebecca  stood  for  a  few  moments  in  indescribable  anx- 
iety, and  then  exclaimed,  "  Is  it  really  thus  ?  —  and  in 
English  land  am  I  to  be  deprived  of  the  poor  chance  of 
safety  which  remains  to  me,  for  want  of  an  act  of  charity 
which  would  not  be  refused  to  the  worst  criminal  ?  " 

Higg,  the  son  of  Snell,,  at  length  replied,  "  I  am  but  a 
maimed  man,  but  that  I  can  at  all  stir  or  move  was  owing 
to  her  charitable  assistance.  I  will  do  thine  errand,"  he 
added,  addressing  Rebecca,  "as  well  as  a  crippled  object 
can,  and  happy  were  my  limbs  fleet  enough  to  repair  the 
mischief  done  by  my  tongue.  Alas  !  when  I  boasted  of  thy 
charity,  I  little  thought  I  was  leading  thee  into  danger !  " 

"  God,"  said  Rebecca,  "  is  the  disposer  of  all.  He  can 
turn  back  the  captivity  of  Judah,  even  by  the  weakest  in- 
strument. To  execute  His  message  the  snail  is  as  sure  a 
messenger  as  the  falcon.  Seek  out  Isaac  of  York  —  here 
is  that  will  pay  for  horse  and  man  —  let  him  have  this 
scroll.     I  know  not  if  it  be  of  Heaven  the  spirit  which  in- 


IVANHOE.  413 

spires  me,  but  most  truly  do  I  judge  that  I  am  not  to  die 
this  death,  and  that  a  champion  will  be  raised  up  for  me. 
Farewell !     Life  and  death  are  in  thy  haste." 

The  peasant  took  the  scroll,  which  contained  only  a  few 
lines  in  Hebrew.  Many  of  the  crowd  would  have  dis- 
suaded him  from  touching  a  document  so  suspicious ;  but 
Higg  was  resolute  in  the  service  of  his  benefactress. 
She  had  saved  his  body,  he  said,  and  he  was  confident  she 
did  not  mean  to  peril  his  soul. 

"  I  will  get  me,"  he  said,  "  my  neighbour  Buthan's  good 
capul,  and  I  will  be  at  York  within  as  brief  space  as  man 
and  beast  may." 

But,  as  it  fortuned,  he  had  no  occasion  to  go  so  far,  for 
within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  gate  of  the  Preceptory 
he  met  with  two  riders  whom,  by  their  dress  and  their 
huge  yellow  caps,  he  knew  to  be  Jews ;  and,  on  approach- 
ing more  nearly,  discovered  that  one  of  them  was  his  an- 
cient employer,  Isaac  of  York.  The  other  was  the  Rabbi 
ben  Samuel ;  and  both  had  approached  as  near  to  the  Pre- 
ceptory as  they  dared,  on  hearing  that  the  Grand  Master 
bad  summoned  a  chapter  for  the  trial  of  a  sorceress. 

"  Brother  ben  Samuel,"  said  Isaac,  "  my  soul  is  dis- 
quieted, and  I  wot  not  why.  This  charge  of  necromancy 
is  right  often  used  for  cloaking  evil  practices  on  our 
people." 

"  Be  of  good  comfort,  brother,"  said  the  physician ; 
u  thou  canst  deal  with  the  Nazarenes  as  one  possessing  the 
mammon  of  unrighteousness,  and  canst  therefore  purchase 
immunity  at  their  hands  —  it  rules  the  savage  minds  of 
those  ungodly  men,  even  as  the  signet  of  the  mighty  Sol- 
omon was  said  to  command  the  evil  genii.  —  But  what  poor 
wretch  comes  hither  upon  his  crutches,  desiring,  as  I  think, 
some  speech  of  me  ?  —  Friend,"  continued  the  physician, 
addressing  Higg,  the  son  of  Snell,  "  I  refuse  thee  not  the 
aid  of  mine  art,  but  I  relieve  not  with  one  asper  those  who 
beg  for  alms  upon  the  highway.  Out  upon  thee  !  —  Hast 
thou  the  palsy  in  thy  legs  ?  then  let  thy  hands  work  for 
thy  livelihood ;  for,  albeit  thou  be'st  unfit  for  a  speedy 
post,  or  for  a  careful  shepherd,  or  for  the  warfare,  or  for 
the  service  of  a  hasty  master,  yet  there  be  occupations 


414  iVANHOE. 

How  now,  brother  ? "  said  he,  interrupting  his  harangue 
to  look  towards  Isaac,  who  had  but  glanced  at  the  scroll 
which  Higg  offered,  when,  uttering  a  deep  groan,  he  fell 
from  his  mule  like  a  dying  man,  and  lay  for  a  minute  in- 
sensible. 

The  Rabbi  now  dismounted  in  great  alarm,  and  hastily 
applied  the  remedies  which  his  art  suggested  for  the  re- 
covery of  his  companion.  He  had  even  taken  from  his 
pocket  a  cupping  apparatus,  and  was  about  to  proceed  to 
phlebotomy,  when  the  object  of  his  anxious  solicitude 
suddenly  revived ;  but  it  was  to  dash  his  cap  from  his 
head,  and  to  throw  dust  on  his  grey  hairs.  The  physician 
was  at  first  inclined  to  ascribe  this  sudden  and  violent 
emotion  to  the  effects  of  insanity ;  and,  adhering  to  his 
original  purpose,  began  once  again  to  handle  his  imple- 
ments. But  Isaac  soon  convinced  him  of  his  error.  "  Child 
of  my  sorrow,"  he  said,  "  well  shouldst  thou  be  called  Be- 
noni,  instead  of  Rebecca!  Why  should  thy  death  bring 
down  my  grey  hairs  to  the  grave,  till,  in  the  bitterness  of 
my  heart,  I  curse  God  and  die ! " 

"Brother,"  said  the  Rabbi,  in  great  surprise,  "art 
thou  a  father  in  Israel,  and  dost  thou  utter  words  like 
unto  these?  —  I  trust  that  the  child  of  thy  house  yet 
liveth?" 

"  She  liveth,"  answered  Isaac ;  "  but  it  is  as  Daniel, 
who  was  called  Belteshazzar,  even  when  within  the  den 
of  the  lions.  She  is  captive  unto  those  men  of  Belial, 
and  they  will  wreak  their  cruelty  upon  her,  sparing 
neither  for  her  youth  nor  her  comely  favour.  Oh !  she 
was  as  a  crown  of  green  palms  to  my  grey  locks ;  and 
she  must  wither  in  a  night,  like  the  gourd  of  Jonah!  — 
Child  of  my  love !  —  child  of  my  old  age  !  —  oh,  Rebecca, 
daughter  of  Rachel !  the  darkness  of  the  shadow  of 
death  hath  encompassed  thee." 

"  Yet  read  the  scroll,"  said  the  Rabbi ;  "  peradventure 
it  may  be  that  we  may  yet  find  out  a  way  of  deliverance." 

"  Do  thou  read,  brother,"  answered  Isaac,  "  for  mine 
eyes  are  as  a  fountain  of  water." 

The  physician  read,  but  in  their  native  language,  the 
following  words : 


IVANHOE.  415 

"  To  Isaac,  the  son  of  Adonikam,  whom  the  Gentiles  call  Isaac 
of  York,  peace  and  the  blessing  of  the  promise  be  multiplied  unto 
thee  !  —  My  father,  I  am  as  one  doomed  to  die  for  that  which  my 
soul  knoweth  not,  even  for  the  crime  of  witchcraft.  —  My  father, 
if  a  strong  man  can  be  found  to  do  battle  for  my  cause  with  sword 
and  spear,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  Nazarenes,  and  that 
within  the  lists  of  Templestowe,  on  the  third  day  from  this  time, 
peradventure  our  father's  God  will  give  him  strength  to  defend  the 
innocent,  and  her  who  hath  none  to  help  her.  But  if  this  may  not 
be,  let  the  virgins  of  our  people  mourn  for  me  as  for  one  cast  off, 
and  for  the  hart  that  is  stricken  by  the  hunter,  and  for  the  flower 
which  is  cut  down  by  the  scythe  of  the  mower.  Wherefore  look 
now  what  thou  doest,  and  whether  there  be  any  rescue.  One 
Nazarene  warrior  might  indeed  bear  arms  in  my  behalf,  even  Wil- 
fred, son  of  Cedric,  whom  the  Gentiles  call  Ivanhoe.  But  he  may 
not  yet  endure  the  weight  of  his  armour.  Nevertheless,  send  the 
tidings  unto  him,  my  father  ;  for  he  hath  favour  among  the  strong 
men  of  his  people,  and  as  he  was  our  companion  in  the  house  of 
bondage,  he  may  find  some  one  to  do  battle  for  my  sake.  And 
say  unto  him  —  even  unto  him  —  even  unto  Wilfred,  the  son  of 
Cedric,  that  if  Rebecca  live,  or  if  Rebecca  die,  she  liveth  or  dieth 
wholly  free  of  the  guilt  she  is  charged  withal.  And  if  it  be  the 
will  of  God  that  thou  shalt  be  deprived  of  thy  daughter,  do  not 
thou  tarry,  old  man,  in  this  land  of  bloodshed  and  cruelty ;  but  be- 
take thyself  to  Cordova,  where  thy  brother  liveth  in  safety,  under 
the  shadow  of  the  throne,  even  of  the  throne  of  Boabdil  the  Sara- 
cen ;  for  less  cruel  are  the  cruelties  of  the  Moors  unto  the  race  of 
Jacob,  than  the  cruelties  of  the  Nazarenes  of  England." 

Isaac  listened  with  tolerable  composure  while  Ben 
Samuel  read  the  letter,  and  then  again  resumed  the  ges- 
tures and  exclamations  of  Oriental  sorrow,  tearing  his 
garments,  besprinkling  his  head  with  dust,  and  ejaculat- 
ing, "  My  daughter !  my  daughter !  flesh,  of  my  flesh, 
and  bone  of  my  bone  ! " 

"  Yet,"  said  the  Rabbi,  "  take  courage,  for  this  grief 
availeth  nothing.  Gird  up  thy  loins,  and  seek  out  this 
Wilfred,  the  son  of  Cedric.  It  may  be  he  will  help  thee 
with  counsel  or  with  strength ;  for  the  youth  hath  favour 
in  the  eyes  of  Richard,  called  of  the  Nazarenes  Cceur-de- 
Lion,  and  the  tidings  that  he  hath  returned  are  constant 
in  the  land.  It  may  be  that  he  may  obtain  his  letter, 
and  his  signet,  commanding  these  men  of  blood,  who  take 
their  name  from  the  Temple  to  the  dishonour  thereof, 
that  they  proceed  not  in  their  purposed  wickedness." 


416  IVANHOE. 

"  I  will  seek  him  out,"  said  Isaac,  "  for  lie  is  a  good 
youth,  and  hath  compassion  for  the  exile  of  Jacob.  But 
he  cannot  bear  his  armour,  and  what  other  Christian 
shall  do  battle  for  the  oppressed  of  Zion  ?  " 

"Nay,  but,"  said  the  Rabbi,  "thou  speakest  as  one 
that  knoweth  not  the  Gentiles.  With  gold  shalt  thou 
buy  their  valour,  even  as  with  gold  thou  buyest  thine 
own  safety.  Be  of  good  courage,  and  do  thou  set  forward 
to  find  out  this  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe.  I  will  also  up  and 
be  doing,  for  great  sin  it  were  to  leave  thee  in  thy  calam- 
ity. I  will  hie  me  to  the  city  of  York,  where  many 
warriors  and  strong  men  are  assembled,  and  doubt  not  I 
will  find  among  them  some  one  who  will  do  battle  for 
thy  daughter ;  for  gold  is  their  god,  and  for  riches  will 
they  pawn  their  lives  as  well  as  their  lands.  —  Thou  wilt 
fulfil,  my  brother,  such  promise  as  I  may  make  unto 
them  in  thy  name  ?  " 

"Assuredly,  brother,"  said  Isaac,  "and  Heaven  be 
praised  that  raised  me  up  a  comforter  in  my  misery ! 
Howbeit,  grant  them  not  their  full  demand  at  once,  for 
jhou  shalt  find  it 'the  quality  of  this  accursed  people  that 
they  will  ask  pounds,  and  peradventure  accept  of  ounces. 
—  Nevertheless,  be  it  as  thou  wiliest,  for  I  am  distracted 
in  this  thing,  and  what  would  my  gold  avail  me  if  the 
child  of  my  love  should  perish  !  " 

"  Farewell,"  said  the  physician,  "  and  may  it  be  to  thee 
as  thy  heart  desireth." 

They  embraced  accordingly,  and  departed  on  their 
several  roads.  The  crippled  peasant  remained  for  some 
time  looking  after  them. 

"  These  dog  Jews !  "  said  he ;  "  to  take  no  more  notice 
of  a  free  guild-brother  than  if  I  were  a  bond  slave  or  a 
Turk,  or  a  circumcised  Hebrew  like  themselves !  They 
might  have  flung  me  a  mancus  or  two,  however.  I  was 
not  obliged  to  bring  their  unhallowed  scrawls,  and  run 
the  risk  of  being  bewitched,  as  more  folks  than  one  told 
me.  And  what  care  I  for  the  bit  of  gold  that  the  wench 
gave  me,  if  I  am  to  come  to  harm  from  the  priest  next 
Easter  at  confession,  and  be  obliged  to  give  him  twice  as 
much  to  make  it  up  with  him,  and  be  called  the  Jew's 


IVANHOE.  417 

flying  post  all  my  life,  as  it  may  hap,  into  the  bargain  ? 
I  think  I  was  bewitched  in  earnest  when  I  was  beside 
that  girl !  But  it  was  always  so  with  Jew  or  Gentile, 
whosoever  came  near  her  —  none  could  stay  when  she 
had  an  errand  to  go ;  and  still,  whenever  I  think  of  her. 
I  would  give  shop  and  tools  to  save  her  life." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

O  maid,  unrelenting  and  cold  as  thou  art, 
My  bosom  is  proud  as  thine  own. 

Seward. 

It  was  in  the  twilight  of  the  day  when  her  trial,  if  it 
could  be  called  such,  had  taken  place,  that  a  low  knock 
was  heard  at  the  door  of  Rebecca's  prison-chamber.  It 
disturbed  not  the  inmate,  who  was  then  engaged  in  the 
evening  prayer  recommended  by  her  religion,  and  which 
concluded  with  a  hymn  we  have  ventured  thus  to  trans- 
late into  English : 

When  Israel,  of  the  Lord  beloved, 

Out  of  the  land  of  bondage  came, 
Her  fathers'  God  before  her  moved, 

An  awful  guide,  in  smoke  and  flame. 
By  day,  along  the  astonish'd  lands 

The  cloudy  pillar  glided  slow  ; 
By  night,  Arabia's  crimson'd  sands 

Return'd  the  fiery  column's  glow. 

There  rose  the  choral  hymn  of  praise, 

And  trump  and  timbrel  answer'd  keen, 
And  Zion's  daughters  pour'd  their  lays, 

With  priest's  and  warrior's  voice  between. 
No  portents  now  our  foes  amaze, 

Forsaken  Israel  wanders  lone  ; 
Our  fathers  would  not  know  Thy  ways, 

And  Thou  hast  left  them  to  their  own. 

But,  present  still,  though  now  unseen, 

When  brightly  shines  the  prosperous  day, 
Be  thoughts  of  Thee  a  cloudy  screen 
To  temper  the  deceitful  ray. 
2b 


418  1VANH0E. 

A.nd  oh,  when  stoops  on  Judah's  path 
In  shade  and  storm  the  frequent  night, 

Be  Thou,  long-suffering,  slow  to  wrath, 
A  burning  and  a  shining  light  I 

Our  harps  we  left  by  Babel's  streams, 

The  tyrant's  jest,  the  Gentile's  scorn  ; 
No  censer  round  our  altar  beams, 

And  mute  our  timbrel,  trump,  and  horn. 
But  Thou  hast  said,  The  blood  of  goat, 

The  flesh  of  rams,  I  will  not  prize  ; 
A  contrite  heart,  an  humble  thought, 

Are  Mine  accepted  sacrifice. 

When  the  sounds  of  Rebecca's  devotional  hymn  had 
died  away  in  silence,  the  low  knock  at  the  door  was 
again  renewed.  "  Enter,"  she  said,  "  if  thou  art  a  friend ; 
and  if  a  foe,  I  have  not  the  means  of  refusing  thy 
entrance." 

"I  am,"  said  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  entering  the 
apartment,  "  friend  or  foe,  Rebecca,  as  the  event  of  this 
interview  shall  make  me." 

Alarmed  at  the  sight  of  this  man,  whose  licentious 
passion  she  considered  as  the  root  of  her  misfortunes, 
Rebecca  drew  backward  with  a  cautious  and- alarmed,  yet 
not  a  timorous,  demeanour  into  the  farthest  corner  of  the 
apartment,  as  if  determined  to  retreat  as  far  as  she  could, 
but  to  stand  her  ground  when  retreat  became  no  longer 
possible.  She  drew  herself  into  an  attitude  not  of  de- 
fiance, but  of  resolution,  #s  one  that  would  avoid  provok- 
ing assault,  yet  was  resolute  to  repel  it,  being  offered,  to 
the  utmost  of  her  power. 

"  You  have  no  reason  to  fear  me,  Rebecca,"  said  the 
Templar ;  "  or,  if  I  must  so  qualify  my  speech,  you  have 
at  least  now  no  reason  to  fear  me." 

"  I  fear  you  not,  Sir  Knight,"  replied  Rebecca,  although 
her  short-drawn  breath  seemed  to  belie  the  heroism  of 
her  accents ;  "  my  trust  is  strong,  and  I  fear  thee  not." 

"  You  have  no  cause,"  answered  Bois-Guilbert,  gravely ; 
"  my  former  frantic  attempts  you  have  not  now  to  dread. 
Within  your  call  are  guards  over  whom  I  have  no  au- 
thority.    They  are  designed  to  conduct  you  to  death, 


IVAN  HOE.  419 

Rebecca,  yet  would  not  suffer  you  to  be  insulted  by  any 
one,  even  by  me,  were  my  frenzy  —  for  frenzy  it  is  —  to 
urge  me  so  far." 

"  May  Heaven  be  praised  !  "  said  the  Jewess  ;  "  death 
is  the  least  of  my  apprehensions  in  this  den  of  evil." 

"  Ay,"  replied  the  Templar,  "  the  idea  of  death  is  easily 
received  by  the  courageous  mind,  when  the  road  to  it  is 
sudden  and  open.  A  thrust  with  a  lance,  a  stroke  with 
a  sword,  were  to  me  little ;  to  you,  a  spring  from  a  dizzy 
battlement,  a  stroke  with  a  sharp  poniard,  has  no  terrors, 
compared  with  what  either  thinks  disgrace.  Mark  me  — 
I  say  this  —  perhaps  mine  own  sentiments  of  honour  are 
not  less  fantastic,  Rebecca,  than  thine  are ;  but  we  know 
alike  how  to  die  for  them." 

"  Unhappy  man,"  said  the  Jewess ;  "  and  art  thou 
condemned  to  expose  thy  life  for  principles  of  which 
thy  sober  judgment  does  not  acknowledge  the  solidity  ? 
Surely  this  is  a  parting  with  your  treasure  for  that 
which  is  not  bread.  —  But  deem  not  so  of  me.  Thy 
resolution  may  fluctuate  on  the  wild  and  changeful  bil- 
lows of  human  opinion;  but  mine  is  anchored  on  the 
Rock  of  Ages." 

"Silence,  maiden,"  answered  the  Templar;  "such  dis- 
course now  avails  but  little.  Thou  art  condemned  to  die 
not  a  sudden  and  easy  death,  such  as  misery  chooses  and 
despair  welcomes,  but  a  slow,  wretched,  protracted  course 
of  torture,  suited  to  what  the  diabolical  bigotry  of  these 
men  calls  thy  crime." 

"  And  to  whom  —  if  such  my  fate  —  to  whom  do  I  owe 
this  ? "  said  Rebecca ;  "  surely  only  to  him  who,  for  a 
most  selfish  and  brutal  cause,  dragged  me  hither,  and 
who  now,  for  some  unknown  purpose  of  his  own,  strives 
to  exaggerate  the  wretched  fate  to  which  he  exposed  me." 

"  Think  not,"  said  the  Templar,  "  that  I  have  so  ex- 
posed thee;  I  would  have  bucklered  thee  against  such 
danger  with  my  own  bosom,  as  freely  as  ever  I  exposed 
it  to  the  shafts  which  had  otherwise  reached  thy  life." 

"  Had  thy  purpose  been  the  honourable  protection  of 
the  innocent,"  said  Rebecca,  "  I  had  thanked  thee  for  thy 
care ;  as  it  is,  thou  hast  claimed  merit  for  it  so  often  that 


420  IVANHOE. 

I  tell  thee  life  is  worth  nothing  to  me,  preserved  at  the 
price  which  thou  wouldst  exact  for  it." 

"Truce  with  thine  upbraidings,  Rebecca,"  said  the 
Templar ;  "  I  have  my  own  cause  of  grief,  and  brook  not 
that  thy  reproaches  should  add  to  it." 

"  What  is  thy  purpose,  then,  Sir  Knight  ? "  said  the 
Jewess ;  "  speak  it  briefly.  —  If  thou  hast  aught  to  do 
save  to  witness  the  misery  thou  hast  caused,  let  me 
know  it ;  and  then,  if  so  it  please  you,  leave  me  to 
myself  —  the  step  between  time  and  eternity  is  short  bat 
terrible,  and  I  have  few  moments  to  prepare  for  it." 

"  I  perceive,  Rebecca,"  said  Bois-G-uilbert,  "  that  thou 
dost  continue  to  burden  me  with  the  charge  of  distresses 
which  most  fain  would  I  have  prevented." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  said  Rebecca,  "  I  would  avoid  reproaches ; 
but  what  is  more  certain  than  that  I  owe  my  death  to 
thine  unbridled  passion  ?  " 

"You  err — you  err,"  said  the  Templar,  hastily,  "'if 
you  impute  what  I  could  neither  foresee  nor  prevent  to 
my  purpose  or  agency.  —  Could  I  guess  the  unexpected 
arrival  of  yon  dotard,  whom  some  flashes  of  frantic 
valour,  and  the  praises  yielded  by  fools  to  the  stupid 
self-torments  of  an  ascetic,  have  raised  for  the  present 
above  his  own  merits,  above  common  sense,  above  me, 
and  above  the  hundreds  of  our  Order  who  think  and  feel 
as  men  free  from  such  silly  and  fantastic  prejudices  as 
are  the  grounds  of  his  opinions  and  actions  ?  " 

"Yet,"  said  Rebecca,,  "you  sate  a  judge  upon  me; 
innocent  —  most  innocent  —  as  you  knew  me  to  be,  you 
concurred  in  my  condemnation ;  and  if  I  aright  under- 
stood, are  yourself  to  appear  in  arms  to  assert  my  guilt, 
and  assure  my  punishment." 

"Thy  patience,  maiden,"  replied  the  Templar.  "No 
race  knows  so  well  as  thine  own  tribes  how  to  submit  to 
the  time,  and  so  to  trim  their  bark  as  to  make  advantage 
even  of  an  adverse  wind." 

"  Lamented  be  the  hour,"  said  Rebecca,  "  that  has 
taught  such  art  to  the  House  of  Israel !  but  adversity 
bends  the  heart  as  fire  bends  the  stubborn  steel,  and 
those  who  are  no  longer  their  own  governors,  and  the 


IVANHOE.  421 

denizens  of  their  own  free  independent  state,  must  crouch 
before  strangers.  It  is  our  curse,  Sir  Knight,  deserved, 
doubtless,  by  our  own  misdeeds  and  those  of  our  fathers ; 
but  you  —  you  who  boast  your  freedom  as  your  birth- 
right, how  much  deeper  is  your  disgrace  when  you  stoop 
to  soothe  the  prejudices  of  others,  and  that  against  your 
own  conviction  ?  n 

"  Your  words  are  bitter,  Rebecca,"  said  Bois-Guilbert, 
pacing  the  apartment  with  impatience,  "  but  I  came  not 
hither  to  bandy  reproaches  with  you.  —  Know  that  Bois- 
Guilbert  yields  not  to  created  man,  although  circum- 
stances may  for  a  time  induce  him  to  alter  his  plan.  His 
will  is  the  mountain  stream,  which  may  indeed  be  turned 
for  a  little  space  aside  by  the  rock,  but  fails  not  to  find 
its  course  to  the  ocean.  That  scroll  which  warned  thee 
to  demand  a  champion,  from  whom  couldst  thou  think  it 
came,  if  not  from  Bois-Guilbert  ?  In  whom  else  couldst 
thou  have  excited  such  interest  ?  " 

"  A  brief  respite  from  instant  death,"  said  Eebecca, 
"which  will  little  avail  me.  Was  this  all  thou  couldst 
do  for  one  on  whose  head  thou  hast  heaped  sorrow,  and 
whom  thou  hast  brought  near  even  to  the  verge  of  the 
tomb  ?  " 

"No,  maiden,"  said  Bois-Guilbert,  "this  was  not  all 
that  I  purposed.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  accursed  inter- 
ference of  yon  fanatical  dotard,  and  the  fool  of  Goodal- 
ricke,  who,  being  a  Templar,  affects  to  think  and  judge 
according  to  the  ordinary  rules  of  humanity,  the  office  of 
the  champion  defender  had  devolved,  not  on  a  Preceptor, 
but  on  a  Companion  of  the  Order.  Then  I  myself  —  such 
was  my  purpose  —  had,  on  the  sounding  of  the  trumpet, 
appeared  in  the  lists  as  thy  champion,  disguised  indeed 
in  the  fashion  of  a  roving  knight,  who  seeks  adventures 
to  prove  his  shield  and  spear ;  and  then,  let  Beaumanoir 
have  chosen  not  one  but  two  or  three  of  the  brethren 
here  assembled,  I  had  not  doubted  to  cast  them  out  of  the 
saddle  with  my  single  lance.  Thus,  Rebecca,  should  thine 
innocence  have  been  avouched,  and  to  thine  own  gratitude 
would  I  have  trusted  for  the  reward  of  my  victory." 

"This,  Sir  Knight,"  said  Rebecca,  "is  but  idle  boast- 


422  IVANHOE. 

ing  —  a  brag  of  what  you  would  have  done  had  you  not 
found  it  convenient  to  do  otherwise.  You  received  my 
glove,  and  my  champion,  if  a  creature  so  desolate  can 
find  one,  must  encounter  your  lance  in  the  lists ;  yet  you 
would  assume  the  air  of  my  friend  and  protector ! " 

"  Thy  friend  and  protector,"  said  the  Templar,  gravely, 
"I  will  yet  be  —  but  mark  at  what  risk,  or  rather  at 
what  certainty,  of  dishonour ;  and  then  blame  me  not  if 
I  make  my  stipulations  before  I  offer  up  all  that  I  have 
hitherto  held  dear,  to  save  the  life  of  a  Jewish  maiden." 

"  Speak,"  said  Rebecca ;  "  I  understand  thee  not." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Bois-G-uilbert,  "  I  will  speak  as  freely 
as  ever  did  doting  penitent  to  his  ghostly  father,  when 
placed  in  the  tricky  confessional.  —  Rebecca,  if  I  appear 
not  in  these  lists  I  lose  fame  and  rank  —  lose  that  which 
is  the  breath  of  my  nostrils,  the  esteem,  I  mean,  in  which 
I  am  held  by  my  brethren,  and  the  hopes  I  have  of  suc- 
ceeding to  that  mighty  authority  which  is  now  wielded 
by  the  bigoted  dotard  Lucas  de  Beaumanoir,  but  of  which 
I  should  make  a  far  different  use.  Such  is  my  certain 
doom,  except  I  appear  in  arms  against  thy  cause.  Ac- 
cursed be  he  of  Goodalricke,  who  baited  this  trap  for 
me  !  and  doubly  accursed  Albert  de  Malvoisin,  who  with- 
held me  from  the  resolution  I  had  formed  of  hurling 
back  the  glove  at  the  face  of  the  superstitious  and  super- 
annuated fool  who  listened  to  a  charge  so  absurd,  and 
against  a  creature  so  high  in  mind  and  so  lovely  in  form 
as  thou  art !  " 

"  And  what  now  avails  rant  or  flattery  ? "  answered 
Rebecca.  "  Thou  hast  made  thy  choice  between  causing 
to  be  shed  the  blood  of  an  innocent  woman,  or  of  endan- 
gering thine  own  earthly  state  and  earthly  hopes.  — 
What  avails  it  to  reckon  together  ?  thy  choice  is  made." 

"  No,  Rebecca,"  said  the  knight,  in  a  softer  tone,  and 
drawing  nearer  towards  her,  "  my  choice  is  not  made  ; 
nay,  mark,  it  is  thine  to  make  the  election.  If  I  appear 
in  the  lists,  I  must  maintain  my  name  in  arms ;  and 
if  I  do  so,  championed  or  unchampioned,  thou  diest  by  the 
stake  and  faggot,  for  there  lives  not  the  knight  who  hath 
coped  with  me  in  arms  on  equal  issue  or  on  terms  of  van- 


IVANHOE.  423 

tage,  save  Richard  Coeur-de-Lion  and  his  minion  of  Ivan- 
hoe.  Ivanhoe,  as  thou  well  knowest,  is  unable  to  bear 
his  corselet,  and  Richard  is  in  a  foreign  prison.  If  I 
appear,  then  thou  diest,  even  although  thy  charms  should 
instigate  some  hot-headed  youth  to  enter  the  lists  in  thy 
defence." 

"  And  what  avails  repeating  this  so  often  ?  "  said  Re- 
becca. 

"  Much,"  replied  the  Templar ;  "  for  thou  must  learn 
to  look  at  thy  fate  on  every  side." 

"  Well,  then,  turn  the  tapestry,"  said  the  Jewess, 
"  and  let  me  see  the  other  side." 

"  If  I  appear,"  said  Bois-Guilbert,  "  in  the  fatal  lists, 
thou  diest  by  a  slow  and  cruel  death,  in  pain  such  as 
they  say  is  destined  to  the  guilty  hereafter.  But  if  I 
appear  not,  then  am  I  a  degraded  and  dishonoured  knight, 
accused  of  witchcraft  and  of  communion  with  infidels  — 
the  illustrious  name  which  has  grown  yet  more  so  under 
my  wearing,  becomes  a  hissing  and  a  reproach.  I  lose 
fame — I  lose  honour —  I  lose  the  prospect  of  such  great- 
ness as  scarce  emperors  attain  to ;  I  sacrifice  mighty  am- 
bition—  I  destroy  schemes  built  as  high  as  the  mountains 
with  which  heathen  say  their  heaven  was  once  nearly 
scaled ;  and  yet,  Rebecca,"  he  added,  throwing  himself 
at  her  feet,  "this  greatness  will  I  sacrifice  —  this  fame 
will  I  renounce  —  this  power  will  I  forego,  even  now 
when  it  is  half  within  my  grasp,  if  thou  wilt  say,  '  Bois- 
Guilbert,  I  receive  thee  for  my  lover.' " 

"  Think  not  of  such  foolishness,  Sir  Knight,"  answered 
Rebecca,  "  but  hasten  to  the  Regent,  the  Queen  Mother, 
and  to  Prince  John ;  they  cannot,  in  honour  to  the  Eng- 
lish crown,  allow  of  the  proceedings  of  your  Grand  Mas- 
ter. So  shall  you  give  me  protection  without  sacrifice  on 
your  part,  or  the  pretext  of  requiring  any  requital  from 
me." 

"  With  these  I  deal  not,"  he  continued,  holding  the 
train  of  her  robe  —  "  it  is  thee  only  I  address  ;  and  what 
can  counterbalance  thy  choice  ?  Bethink  thee,  were  I  a 
fiend,  yet  death  is  a  worse,  and  it  is  death  who  is  my 
rival." 


424  IVANHOE. 

"  I  weigh  not  these  evils,"  said  Rebecca,  afraid  to  pro- 
voke the  wild  knight,  yet  equally  determined  neither  to 
endure  his  passion  nor  even  feign  to  endure  it.  u  Be  a 
man,  be  a  Christian !  If  indeed  thy  faith  recommends 
that  mercy  which  rather  your  tongues  than  your  actions 
pretend,  save  me  from  this  dreadful  death,  without  seek- 
ing a  requital  which  would  change  thy  magnanimity  into 
base  barter." 

"  No,  damsel  !  "  said  the  proud  Templar,  springing  up, 
"  thou  shalt  not  thus  impose  on  me  —  if  I  renounce  pres- 
ent fame  and  future  ambition,  I  renounce  it  for  thy  sake, 
and  we  will  escape  in  company.  Listen  to  me,  Rebecca," 
he  said,  again  softening  his  tone;  "England  —  Europe  — 
is  not  the  world.  There  are  spheres  in  which  we  may 
act,  ample  enough  even  for  my  ambition.  We  will  go  to 
Palestine,  where  Conrade,  Marquis  of  Montserrat  is  my 
friend  —  a  friend  free  as  myself  from  the  doting  scruples 
which  fetter  our  free-born  reason;  rather  with  Saladin 
will  we  league  ourselves  than  endure  the  scorn  of  the 
bigots  whom  we  contemn.  —  I  will  form  new  paths  to 
greatness,"  he  continued,  again  traversing  the  room  with 
hasty  strides ;  "  Europe  shall  hear  the  loud  step  of  him 
she  has  driven  from  her  sons  ! — Not  the  millions  whom 
her  crusaders  send  to  slaughter  can  do  so  much  to  defend 
Palestine ;  not  the  sabres  of  the  thousands  and  ten  thou- 
sands of  Saracens  can  hew  their  way  so  deep  into  that 
land  for  which  nations  are  striving,  as  the  strength  and 
policy  of  me  and  those  brethren  who,  in  despite  of  yonder 
old  bigot,  will  adhere  to  me  in  good  and  evil.  Thou  shalt 
be  a  queen,  Rebecca  —  on  Mount  Carmel  shall  we  pitch 
the  throne  which  my  valour  will  gain  for  you,  and  I  will 
exchange  my  long-desired  batoon  for  a  sceptre  !  " 

"  A  dream,"  said  Rebecca  —  "  an  empty  vision  of  the 
night,  which,  were  it  a  waking  reality,  affects  me  not. 
Enough,  that  the  power  which  thou  mightest  acquire  I 
will  never  share ;  nor  hold  I  so  light  of  country  or  re- 
ligious faith  as  to  esteem  him  who  is  willing  to  barter 
these  ties,  and  cast  away  the  bonds  of  the  Order  of  which 
he  is  a  sworn  member,  in  order  to  gratify  an  unruly  pas- 
sion for  the  daughter  of  another  people.     Put  not  a  price 


IVANHOE.  425 

on  my  deliverance,  Sir  Knight  —  sell  not  a  deed  of  gen- 
erosity—  protect  the  oppressed  for  the  sake  of  charity, 
and  not  for  a  selfish  advantage.  —  Go  to  the  throne  of 
England ;  Richard  will  listen  to  my  appeal  from  these 
cruel  men." 

"  Never,  Rebecca ! "  said  the  Templar,  fiercely.  "  If  I 
renounce  my  Order,  for  thee  alone  will  I  renounce  it. 
Ambition  shall  remain  mine,  if  thou  refuse  my  love  ;  I 
will  not  be  fooled  on  all  hands.  —  Stoop  my  crest  to  Rich- 
ard ?  —  ask  a  boon  of  that  heart  of  pride  ?  Never,  Re- 
becca, will  I  place  the  Order  of  the  Temple  at  his  feet  in 
my  person.  I  may  forsake  the  Order ;  I  never  will  de- 
grade or  betray  it." 

"Now  God  be  gracious  to  me,"  said  Rebecca,  "for  the 
succour  of  man  is  wellnigh  hopeless ! " 

"  It  is  indeed,"  said  the  Templar ;  "  for,  proud  as  thou 
art,  thou  hast  in  me  found  thy  match.  If  I  enter  the 
lists  with  my  spear  in  rest,  think  not  any  human  consid- 
eration shall  prevent  my  putting  forth  my  strength ;  and 
think  then  upon  thine  own  fate  —  to  die  the  dreadful 
death  of  the  worst  of  criminals — to  be  consumed  upon  a 
blazing  pile  —  dispersed  to  the  elements  of  which  our 
strange  forms  are  so  mystically  composed  —  not  a  relic 
left  of  that  graceful  frame,  from  which  we  could  say  this 
lived  and  moved !  Rebecca,  it  is  not  in  woman  to  sustain 
this  prospect  —  thou  wilt  yield  to  my  suit." 

"  Bois-Guilbert,"  answered  the  Jewess,  "  thou  knowest 
not  the  heart  of  woman,  or  hast  only  conversed  with  those 
who  are  lost  to  her  best  feelings.  I  tell  thee,  proud  Tem- 
plar, that  not  in  thy  fiercest  battles  hast  thou  displayed 
more  of  thy  vaunted  courage  than  has  been  shown  by 
woman  when  called  upon  to  suffer  by  affection  or  duty. 
I  am  myself  a  woman,  tenderly  nurtured,  naturally  fear- 
ful of  danger,  and  impatient  of  pain  —  yet,  when  we  enter 
those  fatal  lists,  thou  to  fight  and  I  to  suffer,  I  feel  the 
strong  assurance  within  me  that  my  courage  shall  mount 
higher  than  thine.  Farewell  —  I  waste  no  more  words 
on  thee  ;  the  time  that  remains  on  earth  to  the  daughter 
of  Jacob  must  be  otherwise  spent  —  she  must  seek  the 
Comforter,  who  may  hide  His  face  from  His  people,  but 


426  IVANHOE. 

who  ever  opens  His  ear  to  the  cry  of  those  who  seek  Him 
in  sincerity  and  in  truth." 

"  We  part  then  thus  ?  "  said  the  Templar,  after  a  short 
pause ;  "  would  to  Heaven  we  had  never  met,  or  that  thou 
hadst  been  noble  in  birth  and  Christian  in  faith  !  Nay, 
by  Heaven !  when  I  gaze  on  thee,  and  think  when  and 
how  we  are  next  to  meet,  I  could  even  wish  myself  one 
of  thine  own  degraded  nation ;  my  hand  conversant  with 
ingots  and  shekels,  instead  of  spear  and  shield ;  my  head 
bent  down  before  each  petty  noble,  and  my  look  only  ter- 
rible to  the  shivering  and  bankrupt  debtor  —  this  could 
I  wish,  Eebecca,  to  be  near  to  thee  in  life,  and  to  escape 
the  fearful  share  I  must  have  in  thy  death." 

"Thou  hast  spoken  the  Jew,"  said  Rebecca,  "as  the 
persecution  of  such  as  thou  art,  hath  made  him.  Heaven 
in  ire  has  driven  him  from  his  country,  but  industry  has 
opened  to  him  the  only  road  to  power  and  to  influence 
which  oppression  has  left  unbarred.  Read  the  ancient 
history  of  the  people  of  God,  and  tell  me  if  those  by  whom 
Jehovah  wrought  such  marvels  among  the  nations,  were 
then  a  people  of  misers  and  usurers  !  And  know,  proud 
knight,  we  number  names  amongst  us  to  which  your 
boasted  northern  nobility  is  as  the  gourd  compared  with 
the  cedar  —  names  that  ascend  far  back  to  those  high 
times  when  the  Divine  Presence  shook  the  mercy-seat 
between  the  cherubim,  and  which  derive  their  splendour 
from  no  earthly  prince,  but  from  the  awful  Voice  which 
bade  their  fathers  be  nearest  of  the  congregation  to  the 
Vision. — Such  were  the  princes  of  the  House  of  Jacob." 

Rebecca's  colour  rose  as  she  boasted  the  ancient  glories 
of  her  race,  but  faded  as  she  added,  with  a  sigh  :  "  Such 
were  the  princes  of  Judah,  now  such  no  more  !  —  They  are 
trampled  down  like  the  shorn  grass,  and  mixed  with  the 
mire  of  the  ways.  Yet  are  there  those  among  them  who 
shame  not  such  high  descent,  and  of  such  shall  be  the 
daughter  of  Isaac  the  son  of  Adonikam  !  Farewell !  —  I 
envy  not  thy  blood- won  honours ;  I  envy  not  thy  bar- 
barous descent  from  Northern  heathens  ;  I  envy  thee  not 
thy  faith,  which  is  ever  in  thy  mouth  but  never  in  thy 
heart  nor  in  thy  practice." 


IVANHOE.  427 

"  There  is  a  spell  on  me,  by  Heaven ! "  said  Bois- 
Gnilbert.  "  I  almost  think  yon  besotted  skeleton  spoke 
the  truth,  and  that  the  reluctance  with  which  I  part 
from  thee  hath  something  in  it  more  than  is  natural. 
Fair  creature !  "  he  said,  approaching  nearer,  but  with 
great  respect,  "  so  young,  so  beautiful,  so  fearless  of 
death !  and  yet  doomed  to  die,  and  with  infamy  and 
agony.  Who  would  not  weep  for  thee  ?  —  The  tear  that 
has  been  a  stranger  to  these  eyelids  for  twenty  years, 
moistens  them  as  I  gaze  on  thee.  But  it  must  be  — 
nothing  may  now  save  thy  life.  Thou  and  I  are  but  the 
blind  instruments  of  some  irresistible  fatality,  that 
hurries  us  along  like  goodly  vessels  driving  before  the 
storm,  which  are  dashed  against  each  other,  and  so 
perish.  Forgive  me,  then,  and  let  us  part  at  least  as 
friends  part.  I  have  assailed  thy  resolution  in  vain,  and 
mine  own  is  fixed  as  the  adamantine  decrees  of  fate." 

"  Thus,"  said  Rebecca,  "  do  men  throw  on  fate  the 
issue  of  their  own  wild  passions.  But  I  do  forgive  thee, 
Bois-Guilbert,  though  the  author  of  my  early  death. 
There  are  noble  things  which  cross  over  thy  powerful 
mind  ;  but  it  is  the  garden  of  the  sluggard,  and  the 
weeds  have  rushed  up,  and  conspired  to  choke  the  fair 
and  wholesome  blossom." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Templar,  "  I  am,  Rebecca,  as  thou  hast 
spoken  me,  untaught,  untamed  ;  and  proud  that,  amidst  a 
shoal  of  empty  fools  and  crafty  bigots,  I  have  retained 
the  preeminent  fortitude  that  places  me  above  them.  I 
have  been  a  child  of  battle  from  my  youth  upward,  high 
in  my  views,  steady  and  inflexible  in  pursuing  them. 
Such  must  I  remain  —  proud,  inflexible,  and  unchanging  ; 
and  of  this  the  world  shall  have  proof.  —  But  thou  for- 
givest  me,  Rebecca  ?  " 

"  As  freely  as  ever  victim  forgave  her  executioner." 

"Farewell,  then,"  said  the  Templar,  and  left  the 
apartment. 

The  Preceptor  Albert  waited  impatiently  in  an  adjacent 
chamber  the  return  of  Bois-Guilbert. 

"  Thou  hast  tarried  long,"  he  said ;  "  I  have  been  as  if 
stretched  on  red-hot  iron  with  very  impatience.     What 


428  IVANHOE. 

if  the  Grand  Master,  or  his  spy  Conrade,  had  come 
hither  ?  I  had  paid  dear  for  my  complaisance.  —  But 
what  ails  thee,  brother  ?  —  Thy  step  totters,  thy  brow  is 
as  black  as  night.     Art  thou  well,  Bois-Guilbert  ?  " 

"Ay,"  answered  the  Templar,  "as  well  as  the  wretch 
who  is  doomed  to  die  within  an  hour.  —  Nay,  by  the 
rood,  not  half  so  well ;  for  there  be  those  in  such  state 
who  can  lay  down  life  like  a  cast-off  garment.  By 
Heaven,  Malvoisin,  yonder  girl  hath  wellnigh  unmanned 
me.  I  am  half  resolved  to  go  to  the  Grand  Master, 
abjure  the  Order  to  his  very  teeth,  and  refuse  to  act  the 
brutality  which  his  tyranny  has  imposed  on  me." 

"  Thou  art  mad,"  answered  Malvoisin ;  "  thou  mayst 
thus  indeed  utterly  ruin  thyself,  but  canst  not  even  find 
a  chance  thereby  to  save  the  life  of  this  Jewess,  which 
seems  so  precious  in  thine  eyes.  Beaumanoir  will  name 
another  of  the  Order  to  defend  his  judgment  in  thy  place, 
and  the  accused  will  as  assuredly  perish  as  if  thou  hadst 
taken  the  duty  imposed  on  thee." 

"  'Tis  false ;  I  will  myself  take  arms  in  her  behalf," 
answered  the  Templar,  haughtily  ;  "  and  should  I  do  so, 
I  think,  Malvoisin,  that  thou  knowest  not  one  of  the 
Order  who  will  keep  his  saddle  before  the  point  of  my 
lance." 

"  Ay,  but  thou  f orgettest,"  said  the  wily  adviser,  "  thou 
wilt  have  neither  leisure  nor  opportunity  to  execute  this 
mad  project.  Go  to  Lucas  Beaumanoir,  and  say  thou 
hast  renounced  thy  vow  of  obedience,  and  see  how  long 
the  despotic  old  man  will  leave  thee  in  personal  freedom. 
The  words  shall  scarce  have  left  thy  lips,  ere  thou  wilt 
either  be  an  hundred  feet  under  ground,  in  the  dungeon  of 
the  Preceptory,  to  abide  trial  as  a  recreant  knight ;  or,  if 
his  opinion  holds  concerning  thy  possession,  thou  wilt  be 
enjoying  straw,  darkness,  and  chains  in  some  distant 
convent  cell,  stunned  with  exorcisms,  and  drenched  with 
holy  water,  to  expel  the  foul  fiend  "which  hath  obtained 
dominion  over  thee.  Thou  must  to  the  lists,  Brian,  or 
thou  art  a  lost  and  dishonoured  man." 

"  I  will  break  forth  and  fly,"  said  Bois-Guilbert  —  "  fly 
to  some  distant  land  to  which  folly  and  fanaticism  have 


IVANHOE.  429 

not  yet  found  their  way.  No  drop  of  the  blood  of  this 
most  excellent  creature  shall  be  spilled  by  my  sanction." 

"  Thou  canst  not  fly,"  said  the  Preceptor :  "  thy  ravings 
have  excited  suspicion,  and  thou  wilt  not  be  permitted  to 
leave  the  Preceptory.  Go  and  make  the  essay —  present 
thyself  before  the  gate,  and  command  the  bridge  to  be 
lowered,  and  mark  what  answer  thou  shalt  receive.  — 
Thou  art  surprised  and  offended ;  but  is  it  not  better  for 
thee  ?  Wert  thou  to  fly,  what  would  ensue  but  the 
reversal  of  thy  arms,  the  dishonour  of  thine  ancestry,  the 
degradation  of  thy  rank  ?  —  Think  on  it.  Where  shall 
thine  old  companions  in  arms  hide  their  heads  when 
Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  the  best  lance  of  the  Templars, 
is  proclaimed  recreant,  amid  the  hisses  of  the  assembled 
people  ?  What  grief  will  be  at  the  Court  of  France ! 
With  what  joy  will  the  haughty  Richard  hear  the  news, 
that  the  knight  that  set  him  hard  in  Palestine,  and  well- 
nigh  darkened  his  renown,  has  lost  fame  and  honour  for 
a  Jewish  girl,  whom  he  could  not  even  save  by  so  costly 
a  sacrifice!" 

"  Malvoisin,"  said  the  Knight,  "  I  thank  thee  —  thou 
hast  touched  the  strings  at  which  my  heart  most  readily 
thrills!  Come  of  it  what  may,  recreant  shall  never 
be  added  to  the  name  of  Bois-Guilbert.  Would  to  God, 
Richard,  or  any  of  his  vaunting  minions  of  England, 
would  appear  in  these  lists  !  But  they  will  be  empty  — 
no  one  will  risk  to  break  a  lance  for  the  innocent,  the 
forlorn." 

"  The  better  for  thee,  if  it  prove  so,"  said  the  Precep- 
tor; "if  no  champion  appears,  it  is  not  by  thy  means 
that  this  unlucky  damsel  shall  die,  but  by  the  doom 
of  the  Grand  Master,  with  whom  rests  all  the  blame,  and 
who  will  count  that  blame  for  praise  and  commenda- 
tion." 

"  True,"  said  Bois-Guilbert ;  "  if  no  champion  appears, 
I  am  but  a  part  of  the  pageant,  sitting  indeed  on  horse- 
back in  the  lists,  but  having  no  part  in  what  is  to  follow." 

"  None  whatever,"  said  Malvoisin  —  "  no  more  than  the 
armed  image  of  St.  George  when  it  makes  part  of  a 
procession." 


430  1VANHOE. 

"Well,  I  will  resume  my  resolution,"  replied  the 
haughty  Templar.  "  She  has  despised  me  —  repulsed 
me  —  reviled  me ;  and  wherefore  should  I  offer  up  for 
her  whatever  of  estimation  I  have  in  the  opinion  of 
others  ?     Malvoisin,  I  will  appear  in  the  lists." 

He  left  the  apartment  hastily  as  he  uttered  these 
words,  and  the  Preceptor  followed,  to  watch  and  confirm 
him  in  his  resolution;  for  in  Bois-Guilbert's  fame  he 
had  himself  a  strong  interest,  expecting  much  advan- 
tage from  his  being  one  day  at  the  head  of  the  Order, 
not  to  mention  the  preferment  of  which  Mont-Fitchet 
had  given  him  hopes,  on  condition  he  would  forward  the 
condemnation  of  the  unfortunate  Rebecca.  Yet  al- 
though, in  combating  his  friend's  better  feelings,  he  pos- 
sessed all  the  advantage  which  a  wily,  composed,  selfish 
disposition  has  over  a  man  agitated  by  strong  and  con- 
tending passions,  it  required  all  Malvoisin's  art  to  keep 
Bois-Guilbert  steady  to  the  purpose  he  had  prevailed  on 
him  to  adopt.  He  was  obliged  to  watch  him  closely 
to  prevent  his  resuming  his  purpose  of  flight,  to  intercept 
his  communication  with  the  Grand  Master,  lest  he  should 
come  to  an  open  rupture  with  his  superior,  and  to  renew, 
from  time  to  time,  the  various  arguments  by  which  he 
endeavoured  to  show  that,  in  appearing  as  champion  on 
this  occasion,  Bois-Guilbert,  without  either  accelerating 
or  ensuring  the  fate  of  Rebecca,  would  follow  the  only 
course  by  which  he  could  save  himself  from  degradation 
and  disgrace. 

CHAPTER   XL. 

Shadows  avaunt!  —  Richard's  himself  again. 

Bichard  III. 

When  the  Black  Knight  —  for  it  becomes  necessary  to 
resume  the  train  of  his  adventures — left  the  try  sting- 
tree  of  the  generous  outlaw,  he  held  his  way  straight 
to  a  neighbouring  religious  house,  of  small  extent  and 
revenue,  called  the  Priory  of  St.  Botolph,  to  which  the 


IVANHOE.  431 

wounded  Xvanhoe  had  been  removed  when  the  castle  was 
taken,  under  the  guidance  of  the  faithful  Gurth  and  the 
magnanimous  Wamba.  It  is  unnecessary  at  present  to 
mention  what  took  place  in  the  interim  betwixt  Wilfred 
and  his  deliverer ;  suffice  it  to  say  that,  after  long  and 
grave  communication,  messengers  were  despatched  by  the 
Prior  in  several  directions,  and  that  on  the  succeeding 
morning  the  Black  Knight  was  about  to  set  forth  on  his 
journey,  accompanied  by  the  jester,  Wamba,  who  attended 
as  his  guide. 

"  We  will  meet,"  he  said  to  Tvanhoe,  "  at  Coningsburgh, 
the  castle  of  the  deceased  Athelstane,  since  there  thy 
father  Cedric  holds  the  funeral  feast  for  his  noble  rela- 
tion. I  would  see  your  Saxon  kindred  together,  Sir 
Wilfred,  and  become  better  acquainted  with  them  than 
heretofore.  Thou  also  wilt  meet  me ;  and  it  shall  be  my 
task  to  reconcile  thee  to  thy  father." 

So  saying,  he  took  an  affectionate  farewell  of  Ivanhoe, 
who  expressed  an  anxious  desire  to  attend  upon  his  de- 
liverer. But  the  Black  Knight  would  not  listen  to  the 
proposal. 

"  Rest  this  day ;  thou  wilt  have  scarce  strength  enough 
to  travel  on  the  next.  I  will  have  no  guide  with  me  but 
honest  Wamba,  who  can  play  priest  or  fool  as  I  shall  be 
most  in  the  humour." 

"  And  I,"  said  Wamba,  "  will  attend  you  with  all  my 
heart. .  I  would  fain  see  the  feasting  at  the  funeral  of 
Athelstane ;  for,  if  it  be  not  full  and  frequent,  he  will 
rise  from  the  dead  to  rebuke  cook,  sewer,  and  cupbearer; 
and  that  were  a  sight  worth  seeing.  Always,  Sir  Knight, 
I  will  trust  your  valour  with  making  my  excuse  to  my 
master  Cedric,  in  case  mine  own  wit  should  fail." 

"  And  how  should  my  poor  valour  succeed,  Sir  Jester, 
when  thy  light  wit  halts  ?  —  resolve  me  that." 

"Wit,  Sir  Knight,"  replied  the  Jester,  "may  do  much. 
He  is  a.  quick,  apprehensive  knave,  who  sees  his  neigh- 
bour's blind  side,  and  knows  how  to  keep  the  lee-gage 
when  his  passions  are  blowing  high.  But  valour  is  a 
sturdy  fellow,  that  makes  all  split.  He  rows  against 
both  wind   and   tide,  and   makes  way  notwithstanding; 


432  IVANHOE. 

and,  therefore,  good  Sir  Knight,  while  I  take  advantage 
of  the  fair  weather  in  our  noble  master's  temper,  I  will 
expect  you  to  bestir  yourself  when  it  grows  rough." 

"  Sir  Knight  of  the  Fetterlock,  since  it  is  your  pleasure 
so  to  be  distinguished,"  said  Ivanhoe,  "I  fear  me  you 
have  chosen  a  talkative  and  a  troublesome  fool  to  be  your 
guide.  But  he  knows  every  path  and  alley  in  the  woods 
as  well  as  e'er  a  hunter  who  frequents  them ;  and  the  poor 
knave,  as  thou  hast  partly  seen,  is  as  faithful  as  steel." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  Knight,  "  an  he  have  the  gift  of  show- 
ing my  road,  I  shall  not  grumble  with  him  that  he  desires 
to  make  it  pleasant.  Fare  thee  well,  kind  Wilfred  —  I 
charge  thee  not  to  attempt  to  travel  till  to-morrow  at 
earliest." 

So  saying  he  extended  his  hand  to  Ivanhoe,  who 
pressed  it  to  his  lips,  took  leave  of  the  Prior,  mounted 
his  horse,  and  departed,  with  Wamba  for  his  companion. 
Ivanhoe  followed  them  with  his  eyes  until  they  were  lost 
in  the  shades  of  the  surrounding  forest,  and  then  returned 
into  the  convent. 

But  shortly  after  matin-song  he  requested  to  see  the 
Prior.  The  old  man  came  in  haste,  and  inquired  anxiously 
after  the  state  of  his  health. 

"  It  is  better,"  he  said,  "  than  my  fondest  hope  could 
have  anticipated ;  either  my  wound  has  been  slighter  than 
the  effusion  of  blood  led  me  to  suppose,  or  this  balsam 
hath  wrought  a  wonderful  cure  upon  it.  I  feel  already 
as  if  I  could  bear  my  corselet ;  and  so  much  the  better, 
for  thoughts  pass  in  my  mind  which  render  me  unwill- 
ing to  remain  here  longer  in  inactivity." 

"  Now,  the  saints  forbid,"  said  the  Prior,  "  that  the  son 
of  the  Saxon  Cedric  should  leave  our  convent  ere  his 
wounds  were  healed !  It  were  shame  to  our  profession 
were  we  to  suffer  it." 

"  Nor  would  I  desire  to  leave  your  hospitable  roof,  ven- 
erable father,"  said  Ivanhoe,  "  did  I  not  feel  myself  able 
to  endure  the  journey,  and  compelled  to  undertake  it." 

"  And  what  can  have  urged  you  to  so  sudden  a  de- 
parture ?  "  said  the  Prior. 

"Have  you  never,  holy  father,"  answered  the  knight, 


IVANHOE.  433 

u  felt  an  apprehension  of  approaching  evil,  for  which  you 
in  vain  attempted  to  assign  a  cause  ?  —  Have  you  never 
found  your  mind  darkened,  like  the  sunny  landscape,  by 
the  sudden  cloud,  which  augurs  a  coming  tempest  ?  — 
And  thinkest  thou  not  that  such  impulses  are  deserving 
of  attention,  as  being  the  hints  of  our  guardian  spirits 
that  danger  is  impending  ?  " 

"I  may  not  deny,"  said  the  Prior,  crossing  himself, 
"  that  such  things  have  been,  and  have  been  of  Heaven  ; 
but  then  such  communications  have  had  a  visibly  useful 
scope  and  tendency.  But  thou,  wounded  as  thou  art, 
what  avails  it  thou  shouldst  follow  the  steps  of  him 
whom  thou  couldst  not  aid,  were  he  to  be  assaulted  ?  " 

"  Prior,"  said  Ivanhoe,  "  thou  dost  mistake  —  I  am  stout 
enough  to  exchange  buffets  with  any  who  will  challenge 
me  to  such  a  traffic  —  But  were  it  otherwise,  may  I  not 
aid  him,  were  he  in  danger,  by  other  means  than  by  force 
of  arms  ?  It  is  but  too  well  known  that  the  Saxons  love 
not  the  Norman  race,  and  who  knows  what  may  be  the 
issue  if  he  break  in  upon  them  when  their  hearts  are  irri- 
tated by  the  death  of  Athelstane,  and  their  heads  heated 
by  the  carousal  in  which  they  will  indulge  themselves  ? 
I  hold  his  entrance  among  them  at  such  a  moment  most 
perilous,  and  I  am  resolved  to  share  or  avert  the  danger ; 
which,  that  I  may  the  better  do,  I  would  crave  of  thee 
the  use  of  some  palfrey  whose  pace  may  be  softer  than 
that  of  my  destrier." 

"  Surely,"  said  the  worthy  churchman ;  "  you  shall 
have  mine  own  ambling  jennet,  and  I  would  it  ambled  as 
easy  for  your  sake  as  that  of  the  Abbot  of  St.  Alban's.  Yet 
this  will  I  say  for  Malkin,  for  so  I  call  her,  that  unless 
you  were  to  borrow  a  ride  on  the  juggler's  steed  that 
paces  a  hornpipe  amongst  the  eggs,  you  could  not  go  a 
journey  on  a  creature  so  gentle  and  smooth-paced.  I 
have  composed  many  a  homily  on  her  back,  to  the  edifi- 
cation of  my  brethren  of  the  convent  and  many  poor 
Christian  souls." 

"  I  pray  you,  reverend  father,"  said  Ivanhoe,  "  let  Mal- 
kin be  got  ready  instantly,  and  bid  Gurth  attend  me  with 
mine  arms." 
2f 


434  IYANHOE. 

"  Nay,  but,  fair  sir,"  said  the  Prior,  "  I  pray  you  to  re- 
member that  Malkin  hath  as  little  skill  iu  arms  as  her 
master,  and  that  I  warrant  not  her  enduring  the  sight  or 
weight  of  your  full  panoply.  Oh,  Malkin,  I  promise  you, 
is  a  beast  of  judgment,  and  will  contend  against  any  un- 
due weight  —  I  did  but  borrow  the  Fructus  Temporum 
from  the  priest  of  St.  Bee's,  and  I  promise  you  she  would 
not  stir  from  the  gate  until  I  had  exchanged  the  huge 
volume  for  my  little  breviary." 

"  Trust  me,  holy  father,"  said  Ivanhoe,  "  I  will  not  dis- 
tress her  with  too  much  weight ;  and  if  she  calls  a  com- 
bat with  me,  it  is  odds  but  she  has  the  worst." 

This  reply  was  made  while  Gurth  was  buckling  on  the 
Knight's  heels  a  pair  of  large  gilded  spurs,  capable  of 
convincing  any  restive  horse  that  best  safety  lay  in  being 
conformable  to  the  will  of  his  rider. 

The  deep  and  sharp  rowels  with  which  Ivanhoe's  heels 
were  now  armed  began  to  make  the  worthy  Prior  repent 
of  his  courtesy  and  ejaculate:  "Nay,  but,  fair  sir,  now  I 
bethink  me,  my  Malkin  abideth  not  the  spur.  Better  it 
were  that  you  tarry  for  the  mare  of  our  manciple  down 
at  the  grange,  which  may  be  had  in  little  more  than  an 
hour,  and  cannot  but  be  tractable,  in  respect  that  she 
draweth  much  of  our  winter  firewood,  and  eateth  no  corn." 

"  I  thank  you,  reverend  father,  but  will  abide  by  your 
first  offer,  as  I  see  Malkin  is  already  led  forth  to  the 
gate.  Gurth  shall  carry  mine  armour ;  and  for  the  rest, 
rely  on  it  that,  as  I  will  hot  overload  Malkin's  back,  she 
shall  not  overcome  my  patience.     And  now,  farewell !  " 

Ivanhoe  now  descended  the  stairs  more  hastily  and 
easily  than  his  wound  promised,  and  threw  himself  upon 
the  jennet,  eager  to  escape  the  importunity  of  the  Prior, 
who  stuck  as  closely  to  his  side  as  his  age  and  fatness 
would  permit,  now  singing  the  praises  of  Malkin,  now 
recommending  caution  to  the  knight  in  managing  her. 

"  She  is  at  the  most  dangerous  period  for  maidens  as 
well  as  mares,"  said  the  old  man,  laughing  at  his  own 
jest,  "  being  barely  in  her  fifteenth  year." 

Ivanhoe,  who  had  other  web  to  weave  than  to  stand 
canvassing  a  palfrey's  paces  with  its  owner,  lent  but  a 


I  VAN  HOE.  435 

deaf  ear  to  the  Prior's  grave  advices  and  facetious  jests, 
and  having  leapt  on  his  mare,  and  commanded  his  squire 
(for  such  Gurth  now  called  himself)  to  keep  close  by  his 
side,  he  followed  the  track  of  the  Black  Knight  into 
the  forest,  while  the  Prior  stood  at  the  gate  of  the  con- 
vent looking  after  him,  and  ejaculating  :  "  St.  Mary !  how 
prompt  and  fiery  be  these  men  of  war !  I  would  I  had 
not  trusted  Malkin  to  his  keeping,  for,  crippled  as  I  am 
with  the  cold  rheum,  I  am  undone  if  aught  but  good 
befalls  her.  And  yet,"  said  he,  recollecting  himself,  "  as 
I  would  not  spare  my  own  old  and  disabled  limbs  in  the 
good  cause  of  Old  England,  so  Malkin  must  e'en  run  her 
hazard  on  the  same  venture ;  and  it  may  be  they  will  think 
our  poor  house  worthy  of  some  munificent  guerdon  —  or, 
it  may  be,  they  will  send  the  old  Prior  a  pacing  nag. 
And  if  they  do  none  of  these,  as  great  men  will  forget 
little  men's  service,  truly  I  shall  hold  me  well  repaid  in 
having  done  that  which  is  right.  And  it  is  now  wellnigh 
the  fitting  time  to  summon  the  brethren  to  breakfast  in 
the  refectory.  —  Ah !  I  doubt  they  obey  that  call  more 
cheerily  than  the  bells  for  primes  and  matins." 

So  the  Prior  of  St.  Botolph's  hobbled  back  again  into 
the  refectory,  to  preside  over  the  stock-fish  and  ale  which 
were  just  serving  out  for  the  friars'  breakfast.  Pursy 
and  important,  he  sat  him  down  at  the  table,  and  many  a 
dark  word  he  threw  out  of  benefits  to  be  expected  to  the 
convent,  and  high  deeds  of  service  done  by  himself,  which 
at  another  season  would  have  attracted  observation.  But 
as  the  stock-fish  was  highly  salted,  and  the  ale  reasonably 
powerful,  the  jaws  of  the  brethren  were  too  anxiously 
employed  to  admit  of  their  making  much  use  of  their 
ears ;  nor  do  we  read  of  any  of  the  fraternity  who  was 
tempted  to  speculate  upon  the  mysterious  hints  of  their 
superior,  except  Father  Diggory,  who  was  severely  af- 
flicted by  the  toothache,  so  that  he  could  only  eat  on  one 
side  of  his  jaws. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Black  Champion  and  his  guide 
were  pacing  at  their  leisure  through  the  recesses  of  the 
forest ;  the  good  Knight  whiles  humming  to  himself  the 


436  IVANHOE. 

lay  of  some  enamoured  troubadour,  sometimes  encourag- 
ing by  questions  the  prating  disposition  of  his  attendant, 
so  that  their  dialogue  formed  a  whimsical  mixture  of  song 
and  jest,  of  which  we  would  fain  give  our  readers  some 
idea.  You  are  then  to  imagine  this  Knight,  such  as  we 
have  already  described  him,  strong  of  person,  tall,  broad- 
shouldered,  and  large  of  bone,  mounted  on  his  mighty 
black  charger,  which  seemed  made  on  purpose  to  bear  his 
weight,  so  easily  he  paced  forward  under  it,  having  the 
visor  of  his  helmet  raised,  in  order  to  admit  freedom  of 
breath,  yet  keeping  the  beaver,  or  under  part,  closed,  so 
that  his  features  could  be  but  imperfectly  distinguished. 
But  his  ruddy  embrowned  cheek-bones  could  be  plainly 
seen,  and  the  large  and  bright  blue  eyes,  that  flashed  from 
under  the  dark  shade  of  the  raised  visor ;  and  the  whole 
gesture  and  look  of  the  champion  expressed  careless  gai- 
ety and  fearless  confidence  —  a  mind  which  was  unapt  to 
apprehend  danger,  and  prompt  to  defy  it  when  most  im- 
minent, yet  with  whom  danger  was  a  familiar  thought, 
as  with  one  whose  trade  was  war  and  adventure. 

The  Jester  wore  his  usual  fantastic  habit,  but  late  acci- 
dents had  led  him  to  adopt  a  good  cutting  falchion,  instead 
of  his  wooden  sword,  with  a  targe  to  match  it;  of  both 
which  weapons  he  had,  notwithstanding  his  profession, 
shown  himself  a  skilful  master  during  the  storming  of 
Torquilstone.  Indeed,  the  infirmity  of  Wamba's  brain 
consisted  chiefly  in  a  kind  of  impatient  irritability,  which 
suffered  him  not  long  to  remain  quiet  in  any  posture,  or 
adhere  to  any  certain  train  of  ideas,  although  he  was  for 
a  few  minutes  alert  enough  in  performing  any  immediate 
task,  or  in  apprehending  any  immediate  topic.  On  horse- 
back therefore,  he  was  perpetually  swinging  himself  back- 
wards and  forwards,  now  on  the  horse's  ears,  then  anon 
on  the  very  rump  of  the  animal ;  now  hanging  both  his 
legs  on  one  side,  and  now  sitting  with  his  face  to  the  tail, 
mopping,  mowing,  and  making  a  thousand  apish  gestures, 
until  his  palfrey  took  his  freaks  so  much  to  heart  as  fairly 
to  lay  him  at  his  length  on  the  green  grass  —  an  incident 
which  greatly  amused  the  Knight,  but  compelled  his  com- 
panion to  ride  more  steadily  thereafter. 


IVANHOE.  £61 

At  the  point  of  their  journey  at  which  we  take  them 
up,  this  joyous  pair  were  engaged  in  singing  a  virelai,  as 
it  was  called,  in  which  the  clown  bore  a  mellow  burden 
to  the  better-instructed  Knight  of  the  Fetterlock.  And 
thus  run  the  ditty : 

Anna  Marie,  love,  up  is  the  sun, 

Anna  Marie,  love,  morn  is  begun, 

Mists  are  dispersing,  love,  birds  singing  free, 

Up  in  the  morning,  love,  Anna  Marie. 

Anna  Marie,  love,  up  in  the  morn, 

The  hunter  is  winding  blythe  sounds  on  his  horn, 

The  echo  rings  merry  from  rock  and  from  tree, 

'Tis  time  to  arouse  thee,  love,  Anna  Marie. 

Wamba. 

0  Tybalt,  love,  Tybalt,  awake  me  not  yet, 
Around  my  soft  pillow  while  softer  dreams  flit, 
For  what  are  the  joys  that  in  waking  we  prove, 
Compared  with  these  visions,  0  Tybalt,  my  love  ? 
Let  the  birds  to  the  rise  of  the  mist  carol  shrill, 
Let  the  hunter  blow  out  his  loud  horn  on  the  hill, 
Softer  sounds,  softer  pleasures,  in  slumber  I  prove,  — 
But  think  not  I  dreamt  of  thee,  Tybalt,  my  love. 

"  A  dainty  song,"  said  Wamba,  when  they  had  finished 
their  carol,  u  and  I  swear  by  my  bauble,  a  pretty  moral ! 
I  used  to  sing  it  with  Gurth,  once  my  playfellow,  and 
now,  by  the  grace  of  God  and  his  master,  no  less  than  a 
freeman ;  and  we  once  came  by  the  cudgel  for  being  so 
entranced  by  the  melody  that  we  lay  in  bed  two  hours 
after  sunrise,  singing  the  ditty  betwixt  sleeping  and 
waking;  my  bones  ache  at  thinking  of  the  tune  ever 
since.  Nevertheless,  I  have  played  the  part  of  Anna 
Marie  to  please  you,  fair  sir." 

The  Jester  next  struck  into  another  carol,  a  sort  of 
comic  ditty,  to  which  the  Knight,  catching  up  the  tune, 
replied  in  the  like  manner. 

Knight  and  Wamba. 

There  came  three  merry  men  from  south,  west,  and  north, 

Ever  more  sing  the  roundelaj^  ; 
To  win  the  Widow  of  Wycombe  forth, 

And  where  was  the  widow  might  say  them  nay  ? 


438  IVANHOE. 

The  first  was  a  knight,  and  from  Tynedale  he  came, 

Ever  more  sing  the  roundelay  ; 
And  his  fathers,  God  save  us,  were  men  of  great  fame, 

And  where  was  the  widow  might  say  him  nay  ? 

Of  his  father  the  laird,  of  his  uncle  the  squire, 

He  boasted  in  rhyme  and  in  roundelay ; 
She  bade  him  go  bask  by  his  sea-coal  fire, 

For  she  was  the  widow  would  say  him  nay. 

Wamba. 

The  next  that  came  forth,  swore  by  blood  and. by  nails, 

Merrily  sing  the  roundelay  ; 
Hur's  a  gentleman,  God  wot,  and  hur's  lineage  was  of  Wales, 

And  where  was  the  widow  might  say  him  nay  ? 

Sir  David  ap  Morgan  ap  Griffith  ap  Hugh 
Ap  Tudor  ap  Rhice,  quoth  his  roundelay  ; 

She  said  that  one  widow  for  so  many  was  too  few, 
And  she  bade  the  Welshman  wend  his  way. 

But  then  next  came  a  yeoman,  a  yeoman  of  Kent, 

Jollily  singing  his  roundelay  ; 
He  spoke  to  the  widow  of  living  and  rent, 

And  where  was  the  widow  could  say  him  nay  ? 

Both. 

So  the  knight  and  the  squire  were  both  left  in  the  mire, 

There  for  to  sing  their  roundelay  ; 
For  a  yeoman  of  Kent,  .with  his  yearly  rent, 

There  never  was  a  widow  could  say  him  nay. 

"  I  would,  Wamba,"  said  the  Knight,  "  that  our  host  of 
the  trysting-tree,  or  the  jolly  Friar,  his  chaplain,  heard 
this  thy  ditty  in  praise  of  our  bluff  yeoman." 

"•So  would  not  I,"  said  Wamba,  "  but  for  the  horn  that 
hangs  at  your  baldric." 

"  Ay,"  said  the  Knight,  "  this  is  a  pledge  of  Locksley's 
good  will,  though  I  am  not  like  to  need  it.  Three  mots 
on  this  bugle  will,  I  am  assured,  bring  round,  at  our 
need,  a  jolly  band  of  yonder  honest  yeomen." 

"I   would    say,   Heaven   forefend,"   said   the  Jester, 


IVANHOE.  439 

"  were  it  not  that  that  fair  gift  is  a  pledge  they  would 
let  us  pass  peaceably." 

"  Why,  what  meanest  thou  ?  "  said  the  Knight ;  "  think- 
est  thou  that  but  for  this  pledge  of  fellowship  they 
would  assault  us  ?  " 

"  Nay,  for  me  I  say  nothing,"  said  Wamba ;  "  for  green 
trees  have  ears  as  well  as  stone  walls.  But  canst  thou 
construe  me  this,  Sir  Knight  ?  —  When  is  thy  wine- 
pitcher  and  thy  purse  better  empty  than  full  ?  " 

"  Why,  never,  I  think,"  replied  the  Knight. 

"  Thou  never  deservest  to  have  a  full  one  in  thy  hand, 
for  so  simple  an  answer !  Thou  hadst  best  empty  thy 
pitcher  ere  thou  pass  it  to  a  Saxon,  and  leave  thy  money 
at  home  ere  thou  walk  in  the  greenwood." 

"You  hold  our  friends  for  robbers,  then?"  said  the 
Knight  of  the  Fetterlock. 

"  You  hear  me  not  say  so,  fair  sir,"  said  Wamba.  "  It 
may  relieve  a  man's  steed  to  take  off  his  mail  when  he 
hath  a  long  journey  to  make;  and,  certes,  it  may  do 
good  to  the  rider's  soul  to  ease  him  of  that  which  is  the 
root  of  evil ;  therefore  will  I  give  no  hard  names  to  those 
who  do  such  services.  Only  I  would  wish  my  mail  at 
home,  and  my  purse  in  my  chamber,  when  I  meet  with 
these  good  fellows,  because  it  might  save  them  some 
trouble." 

"  We  are  bound  to  pray  for  them,  my  friend,  notwith- 
standing the  fair  character  thou  dost  afford  them." 

"Pray  for  them  with  all  my  heart,"  said  Wamba; 
"  but  in  the  town,  not  in  the  greenwood,  like  the  abbot 
of  St.  Bee's,  whom  they  caused  to  say  mass  with  an  old 
hollow  oak-tree  for  his  stall." 

"  Say  as  thou  list,  Wamba,"  replied  the  Knight,  "  these 
yeomen  did  thy  master  Cedric  yeomanly  service  at 
Torquilstone." 

"  Ay,  truly,"  answered  Wamba ;  "  but  that  was  in  the 
fashion  of  their  trade  with  Heaven." 

"Their  trade,  Wamba!  how  mean  you  by  that?"  re- 
plied his  companion. 

"Marry,  thus,"  said  the  Jester.  "They  make  up  a 
balanced  account  with  Heaven,  as  our  old  cellarer  used 


440  IVANHOE. 

to  call  his  ciphering,  as  fair  as  Isaac  the  Jew  keeps  with 
his  debtors,  and,  like  him,  give  out  a  very  little,  and  take 
large  credit  for  doing  so ;  reckoning,  doubtless,  on  their 
Own  behalf  the  sevenfold  usury  which  the  blessed  text 
hath  promised  to  charitable  loans." 

"Give  me  an  example  of  your  meaning,  Wamba  —  I 
know  nothing  of  ciphers  or  rates  of  usage,"  answered  the 
Knight. 

"  Why,"  said  Wamba,  "  an  your  valour  be  so  dull,  you 
will  please  to  learn  that  those  honest  fellows  balance  a 
good  deed  with  one  not  quite  so  laudable,  as  a  crown 
given  to  a  begging  friar  with  a  hundred  byzants  taken 
from  a  fat  abbot,  or  a  wench  kissed  in  the  greenwood 
with  the  relief  of  a  poor  widow." 

"  Which  of  these  was  the  good  deed,  which  was  the 
felony  ?  "  interrupted  the  Knight. 

"  A  good  gibe  !  a  good  gibe  !  "  said  Wamba ;  "  keeping 
witty  company  sharpeneth  the  apprehension.  You  said 
nothing  so  well,  Sir  Knight,  I  will  be  sworn,  when  you 
held  drunken  vespers  with  the  bluff  hermit  —  But  to  go 
on  —  The  merry  men  of  the  forest  set  off  the  building  of 
a  cottage  with  the  burning  of  a  castle,  the  thatching  of  a 
choir  against  the  robbing  of  a  church,  the  setting  af ree  a 
poor  prisoner  against  the  murder  of  a  proud  sheriff,  or  to 
come  nearer  to  our  point,  the  deliverance  of  a  Saxon 
franklin  against  the  burning  alive  of  a  Norman  baron. 
Gentle  thieves  they  are,  in  short,  and  courteous  robbers ; 
but  it  is  ever  the  luckiest  to  meet  with  them  when  they 
are  at  the  worst." 

"  How  so,  Wamba  ?  "  said  the  Knight. 

"  Why,  then  they  have  some  compunction,  and  are  for 
making  up  matters  with  Heaven.  But  when  they  have 
struck  an  even  balance,  Heaven  help  them  with  whom 
they  next  open  the  account !  The  travellers  who  first  met 
them  after  their  good  service  at  Torquilstone  would  have  a 
woeful  flaying. — And  yet,"  said  Wamba,  coming  close  up  to 
the  Knight's  side,  "  there  be  companions  who  are  far  more 
dangerous  for  travellers  to  meet  than  yonder  outlaws." 

"  And  who  may  they  be,  for  you  have  neither  bears 
nor  wolves,  I  trow  ? "  said  the  Knight. 


IVANHOE.  441 

"Marry,  sir,  but  we  have  Malvoisin's  men-at-arms," 
said  Wamba ;  "  and  let  me  tell  you  that,  in  time  of  civil 
war,  a  half-score  of  these  is  worth  a  band  of  wolves  at 
any  time.  They  are  now  expecting  their  harvest,  and 
are  reinforced  with  the  soldiers  that  escaped  from  Tor- 
quilstone ;  so  that,  should  we  meet  with  a  band  of  them, 
we  are  like  to  pay  for  our  feats  of  arms. — Now,  I  pray 
you,  Sir  Knight,  what  would  you  do  if  we  met  two  of 
them  ?  " 

"  Pin  the  villains  to  the  earth  with  my  lance,  Wamba, 
if  they  offered  us  any  impediment." 

"  But  what  if  there  were  four  of  them  ?  " 

"They  should  drink  of  the  same  cup,"  answered  the 
Knight. 

"  What  if  six,"  continued  Wamba,  "  and  we  as  we  now 
are,  barely  two;  would  you  not  remember  Locksley's 
horn  ?  " 

"  What !  sound  for  aid,"  exclaimed  the  Knight,  "  against 
a  score  of  such  rascaille  as  these,  whom  one  good  knight 
could  drive  before  him,  as  the  wind  drives  the  withered 
leaves  ? " 

"Nay,  then,"  said  Wamba,  "I  will  pray  you  for  a 
close  sight  of  that  same  horn  that  hath  so  powerful  a 
breath." 

The  Knight  undid  the  clasp  of  the  baldric,  and  in- 
dulged  his  fellow-traveller,  who  immediately  hung  the 
bugle  round  his  own  neck. 

"  Tra-lira-la,"  said  he,  whistling  the  notes;  "nay,  I 
know  my  gamut  as  well  as  another." 

"  How  mean  you,  knave  ?  "  said  the  Knight ;  "  restore 
me  the  bugle." 

"  Content  you,  Sir  Knight,  it  is  in  safe  keeping.  When 
Valour  and  Folly  travel,  Folly  should  bear  the  horn,  be- 
cause she  can  blow  the  best." 

"Nay,  but,  rogue,"  said  the  Black  Knight,  "this  ex- 
ceedeth  thy  license  —  Beware  ye  tamper  not  with  my 
patience." 

"  Urge  me  not  with  violence,  Sir  Knight,"  said  the 
Jester,  keeping  at  a  distance  from  the  impatient  cham- 
pion, "  or  Folly  will  show  a  clean  pair  of  heels,  and  leave 


442  IVANHOE. 

Valour  to  find  out  his  way  through  the  wood  as  best  he 
may." 

"  Nay,  thou  hast  hit  me  there,"  said  the  Knight ;  "  and, 
sooth  to  say,  I  have  little  time  to  jangle  with  thee.  Keep 
the  horn  an  thou  wilt,  but  let  us  proceed  on  our  journey." 

"  You  will  not  harm  me  then  ?  "  said  Wamba. 

"  I  tell  thee  no,  thou  knave  !  " 

"  Ay,  but  pledge  me  your  knightly  word  for  it,"  con- 
tinued Wamba,  as  he  approached  with  great  caution. 

"  My  knightly  word  I  pledge  ;  only  come  on  with  thy 
foolish  self." 

"Nay,  then,  Valour  and  Folly  are  once  more  boon 
companions,"  said  the  Jester,  coming  up  frankly  to  the 
Knight's  side ;  "  but,  in  truth,  I  love  not  such  buffets  as 
that  you  bestowed  on  the  burly  Friar,  when  his  holiness 
rolled  on  the  green  like  a  king  of  the  nine-pins.  And 
now  that  Folly  wears  the  horn,  let  Valour  rouse  himself 
and  shake  his  mane ;  for,  if  I  mistake  not,  there  are 
company  in  yonder  brake  that  are  on  the  lookout  for 
us." 

"What  makes  thee  judge  so ? "  said  the  Knight. 

"  Because  I  have  twice  or  thrice  noticed  the  glance  of 
a  morrion  from  amongst  the  green  leaves.  Had  they 
been  honest  men,  they  had  kept  the  path.  But  yonder 
thicket  is  a  choice  chapel  for  the  clerks  of  St.  Nicholas." 

"  By  my  faith,"  said  the  Knight,  closing  his  visor,  "  I 
think  thou  be'st  in  the  right  on't." 

And  in  good  time  did  he  close  it,  for  three  arrows  flew 
at  the  same  instant  from  the  suspected  spot  against  his 
head  and  breast,  one  of  which  would  have  penetrated  to 
the  brain,  had  it  not  been  turned  aside  by  the  steel  visor. 
The  other  two  were  averted  by  the  gorget,  and  by  the 
shield  which  hung  around  his  neck. 

"  Thanks,  trusty  armourer,"  said  the  Knight.  "  Wamba, 
let  us  close  with  them,"  —  and  he  rode  straight  to  the 
thicket.  He  was  met  by  six  or  seven  men-at-arms,  who 
ran  against  him  with  their  lances  at  full  career.  Three 
of  the  weapons  struck  against  him,  and  splintered  with 
as  little  effect  as  if  they  had  been  driven  against  a  tower 
of  steel.     The  Black  Knight's  eyes  seemed  to  flash  fire 


<3 . '  m.  * 


l/e<? 


J* 


- 


IVANHOE.  443 

even  through  the  aperture  of  his  visor.  He  raised  him- 
self in  his  stirrups  with  an  air  of  inexpressible  dignity, 
and  exclaimed,  "  What  means  this,  my  masters  !  "  —  The 
men  made  no  other  reply  than  by  drawing  their  swords 
and  attacking  him  on  every  side,  crying,  "  Die,  tyrant ! " 

"  Ha !  St.  Edward  !  Ha !  St.  George ! "  said  the  Black 
Knight,  striking  down  a  man  at  every  invocation ;  "  have 
we  traitors  here  ?  " 

His  opponents,  desperate  as  they  were,  bore  back  from 
an  arm  which  carried  death  in  every  blow,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  the  terror  of  his  single  strength  was  about  to  gain 
the  battle  against  such  odds,  when  a  knight  in  blue 
armour,  who  had  hitherto  kept  himself  behind  the  other 
assailants,  spurred  forward  with  his  lance,  and  taking 
aim,  not  at  the  rider  but  at  the  steed,  wounded  the  noble 
animal  mortally. 

"  That  was  a  felon  stroke ! "  exclaimed  the  Black  Knight, 
as  the  steed  fell  to  the  earth,  bearing  his  rider  along  with 
him. 

And  at  this  moment  Wamba  winded  the  bugle,  for  the 
whole  had  passed  so  speedily  that  he  had  not  time  to  do 
so  sooner.  The  sudden  sound  made  the  murderers  bear 
back  once  more,  and  Wamba,  though  so  imperfectly 
weaponed,  did  not  hesitate  to  rush  in  and  assist  the 
Black  Knight  to  rise. 

"  Shame  on  ye,  false  cowards ! "  exclaimed  he  in  the 
blue  harness,  who  seemed  to  lead  the  assailants,  "  do  ye 
fly  from  the  empty  blast  of  a  horn  blown  by  a  Jester  ?  " 

Animated  by  his  words,  they  attacked  the  Black  Knight 
anew,  whose  best  refuge  was  now  to  place  his  back  against 
an  oak,  and  defend  himself  with  his  sword.  The  felon 
knight,  who  had  taken  another  spear,  watching  the  mo- 
ment when  his  formidable  antagonist  was  most  closely 
pressed,  galloped  against  him  in  hopes  to  nail  him  with 
his  lance  against  the  tree,  when  his  purpose  was  again 
intercepted  by  Wamba.  The  Jester,  making  up  by  agility 
the  want  of  strength,  and  little  noticed  by  the  men-at- 
arms,  who  were  busied  in  their  more  important  object, 
hovered  on  the  skirts  of  the  fight,  and  effectually  checked 
the  fatal  career  of  the  Blue  Knight,  by  hamstringing  his 


444  IVANHOE. 

horse  with,  a  stroke  of  his  sword.  Horse  and  man  went 
to  the  ground;  yet  the  situation  of  the  Knight  of  the 
Fetterlock  continued  very  precarious,  as  he  was  pressed 
close  by  several  men  completely  armed,  and  began  to  be 
fatigued  by  the  violent  exertions  necessary  to  defend 
himself  on  so  many  points  at  nearly  the  same  moment, 
when  a  grey-goose  shaft  suddenly  stretched  on  the  earth 
one  of  the  most  formidable  of  his  assailants,  and  a  band 
of  yeomen  broke  forth  from  the  glade,  headed  by  Locksley 
and  the  jovial  Friar,  who,  taking  ready  and  effectual  part 
in  the  fray,  soon  disposed  of  the  ruffians,  all  of  whom  lay 
on  the  spot  dead  or  mortally  wounded.  The  Black  Knight 
thanked  his  deliverers  with  a  dignity  they  had  not  ob- 
served in  his  former  bearing,  which  hitherto  had  seemed 
rather  that  of  a  blunt,  bold  soldier  than  of  a  person  of 
exalted  rank. 

"It  concerns  me  much,"  he  said,  "even  before  I  ex- 
press my  full  gratitude  to  my  ready  friends,  to  discover, 
if  I  may,  who  have  been  my  unprovoked  enemies.  — 
Open  the  visor  of  that  Blue  Knight,  Wamba,  who  seems 
the  chief  of  these  villains." 

The  Jester  instantly  made  up  to  the  leader  of  the 
assassins,  who,  bruised  by  his  fall,  and  entangled  under 
the  wounded  steed,  lay  incapable  either  of  flight  or 
resistance. 

"Come,  valiant  sir,"  said  Wamba,  "I  must  be  your 
armourer  as  well  as  your  equerry.  —  I  have  dismounted 
you,  and  now  I  will  unhelm  you." 

So  saying,  with  no  very  gentle  hand  he  undid  the 
helmet  of  the  Blue  Knight,  which,  rolling  to  a  distance 
on  the  grass,  displayed  to  the  Knight  of  the  Fetterlock 
grizzled  locks,  and  a  countenance  he  did  not  expect  to 
have  seen  under  such  circumstances. 

"  Waldemar  Fitzurse !  "  he  said  in  astonishment ;  "  what 
could  urge  one  of  thy  rank  and  seeming  worth  to  so  foul 
an  undertaking  ?  " 

"  Eichard,"  said  the  captive  knight,  looking  up  to  him, 
"thou  knowest  little  of  mankind,  if  thou  knowest  not 
to  what  ambition  and  revenge  can  lead  every  child  of 
Adam." 


IVANHOE.  445 

"  Revenge  !  "  answered  the  Black  Knight ;  "  I  never 
wronged  thee  — On  me  thou  hast  nought  to  revenge." 

"  My  daughter,  Richard,  whose  alliance  thou  didst 
scorn  —  was  that  no  injury  to  a  Norman,  whose  blood  is 
noble  as  thine  own  ?  " 

"  Thy  daughter !  "  replied  the  Black  Knight.  "  A 
proper  cause  of  enmity,  and  followed  up  to  a  bloody 
issue!  —  Stand  back,  my  masters,  I  would  speak  to  him 
alone  —  And  now,  Waldemar  Fitzurse,  say  me  the  truth ; 
confess  who  set  thee  on  this  traitorous  deed." 

"  Thy  father's  son,"  answered  Waldemar,  "  who,  in  so 
doing,  did  but  avenge  on  thee  thy  disobedience  to  thy 
father." 

Richard's  eyes  sparkled  with  indignation,  but  his 
better  nature  overcame  it.  He  pressed  his  hand  against 
his  brow,  and  remained  an  instant  gazing  on  the  face  of 
the  humbled  baron,  in  whose  features  pride  was  contend- 
ing with  shame. 

"  Thou  dost  not  ask  thy  life,  Waldemar  ?  "  said  the 
King. 

"  He  that  is  in  the  lion's  clutch,"  answered  Fitzurse, 
"  knows  it  were  needless." 

"  Take  it,  then,  unasked,"  said  Richard ;  "  the  lion 
preys  not  on  prostrate  carcasses  —  Take  thy  life,  but 
with  this  condition,  that  in  three  days  thou  shalt  leave 
England,  and  go  to  hide  thine  infamy  in  thy  Norman 
castle,  and  that  thou  wilt  never  mention  the  name  of 
John  of  Anjou  as  connected  with  thy  felony.  If  thou 
art  found  on  English  ground  after  the  space  I  have  al- 
lotted thee,  thou  diest  —  or  if  thou  breathest  aught  that 
can  attaint  the  honour  of  my  house,  by  St.  George !  not 
the  altar  itself  shall  be  a  sanctuary.  I  will  hang  thee 
out  to  feed  the  ravens  from  the  very  pinnacle  of  thine 
own  castle.  Let  this  knight  have  a  steed,  Locksley,  for 
I  see  your  yeomen  have  caught  those  which  were  run- 
ning loose,  and  let  him  depart  unharmed." 

"  But  that  I  judge  I  listen  to  a  voice  whose  behests 
must  not  be  disputed,"  answered  the  yeoman,  "  I  would 
send  a  shaft  after  the  skulking  villain  that  should  spare 
him  the  labour  of  a  long  journey." 


446  IVANHOE. 

"Thou  bearest  an  English  heart,  Locksley,"  said  the 
Black  Knight,  "and  well  dost  judge  thou  art  the  more 
bound  to  obey  my  behest  —  I  am  Richard  of  England  !  " 

At  these  words,  pronounced  in  a  tone  of  majesty 
suited  to  the  high  rank,  and  no  less  distinguished  char- 
acter, of  Coeur-de-Lion,  the  yeomen  at  once  kneeled  down 
before  him,  and  at  the  same  time  tendered  their  alle- 
giance, and  implored  pardon  for  their  offences. 

"  Rise,  my  friends,"  said  Richard,  in  a  gracious  tone, 
looking  on  them  with  a  countenance  in  which  his  habit- 
ual good-humour  had  already  conquered  the  blaze  of 
hasty  resentment,  and  whose  features  retained  no  mark 
of  the  late  desperate  conflict,  excepting  the  flush  arising 
from  exertion  —  "  arise,"  he  said,  "  my  friends !  Your 
misdemeanours,  whether  in  forest  or  field,  have  been 
atoned  by  the  loyal  services  you  rendered  my  distressed 
subjects  before  the  walls  of  Torquilstone,  and  the  res- 
cue you  have  this  day  afforded  to  your  sovereign.  Arise 
my  liegemen,  and  be  good  subjects  in  future.  — And  thou, 
brave  Locksley " 

"  Call  me  no  longer  Locksley,  my  Liege,  but  know  me 
under  the  name  which,  I  fear,  fame  hath  blown  too 
widely  not  to  have  reached  even  your  royal  ears  —  I  am 
Robin  Hood  of  Sherwood  Forest." 

"  King  of  outlaws,  and  Prince  of  good  fellows  !  "  said 
the  King,  "  who  hath  not  heard  a  name  that  has  been 
borne  as  far  as  Palestine  ?  But  be  assured,  brave  Out- 
law, that  no  deed  done  in  our  absence,  and  in  the 
turbulent  times  to  which  it  hath  given  rise,  shall  be 
remembered  to  thy  disadvantage." 

"  True  says  the  proverb,"  said  Wamba,  interposing  his 
word,  but  with  some  abatement  of  his  usual  petulance  — 

"  '  When  the  cat  is  away, 
The  mice  will  play.'  " 

"  What,  Wamba,  art  thou  there  ?  "  said  Richard  ;  "  X, 
have  been  so  long  of  hearing  thy  voice,  I  thought  thou 
hadst  taken  flight." 

"  I  take  flight ! "  said  Wamba  ;  "  when  do  you  ever 
find  Folly  separated  from  Valour  ?   There  lies  the  trophy 


IVANHOE.  447 

of  my  sword,  that  good  grey  gelding,  whom  I  heartily 
wish  upon  his  legs  again,  conditioning  his  master  lay 
there  houghed  in  his  place.  It  is  true,  I  gave  a  little 
ground  at  first,  for  a  motley  jacket  does  not  brook  lance- 
heads  as  a  steel  doublet  will.  But  if  I  fought  not  at 
sword's  point,  you  will  grant  me  that  I  sounded  the 
onset." 

"  And  to  good  purpose,  honest  Wamba,"  replied  the 
King.     "  Thy  good  service  shall  not  be  forgotten." 

"  Conjiteor  !  conjiteor  ! "  exclaimed,  in  a  submissive 
tone,  a  voice  near  the  King's  side ;  "  my  Latin  will 
carry  me  no  farther,  but  I  confess  my  deadly  treason, 
and  pray  leave  to  have  absolution  before  I  am  led  to 
execution  ! " 

Richard  looked  around,  and  beheld  the  jovial  Friar  on 
his  knees,  telling  his  rosary,  while  his  quarter-staff,  which 
had  not  been  idle  during  the  skirmish,  lay  on  the  grass 
beside  him.  His  countenance  was  gathered  so  as  he 
thought  might  best  express  the  most  profound  contri- 
tion, his  eyes  being  turned  up,  and  the  corners  of  his 
mouth  drawn  down,  as  Wamba  expressed  it,  like  the 
tassels  at  the  mouth  of  a  purse.  Yet  this  demure  affec- 
tation of  extreme  penitence  was  whimsically  belied  by 
a  ludicrous  meaning  which  lurked  in  his  huge  features, 
and  seemed  to  pronounce  his  fear  and  repentance  alike 
hypocritical. 

"  For  what  art  thou  cast  down,  mad  priest  ? "  said 
Richard ;  "art  thou  afraid  thy  diocesan  should  learn 
how  truly  thou  dost  serve  Our  Lady  and  St.  Dunstan  ? 
Tush,  man  !  fear  it  not ;  Richard  of  England  betrays  no 
secrets  that  pass  over  the  flagon." 

"  Xay,  most  gracious  sovereign,"  answered  the  hermit, 
(well  known  to  the  curious  in  penny  histories  of  Robin 
Hood  by  the  name  of  Friar  Tuck,)  "  it  is  not  the  crosier 
I  fear,  but  the  sceptre.  Alas  !  that  my  sacrilegious  fist 
should  ever  have  been  applied  to  the  ear  of  the  Lord's 
anointed !  " 

"  Ha  !  ha !  "  said  Richard,  "  sits  the  wind  there  ?  — 
In  truth,  I  had  forgotten  the  buffet,  though  mine  ear 
sung  after  it  for  a  whole  day.     But  if  the  cuff  was  fairly 


448  IVANHOE. 

given,  I  will  be  judged  by  the  good  men  around,  if  it 
was  not  as  well  repaid  —  or,  if  thou  thinkest  I  still  owe 
thee  aught,  and  will  stand  forth  for  another  counter- 
buff " 

"  By  no  means,"  replied  Friar  Tuck,  "  I  had  mine  own 
returned,  and  with  usury  —  may  your  Majesty  ever  pay 
your  debts  as  fully  !  " 

"  If  I  could  do  so  with  cuffs,"  said  the  King,  "  my 
creditors  should  have  little  reason  to  complain  of  an 
empty  exchequer." 

"  And  yet,"  said  the  Friar,  resuming  his  demure,  hypo- 
critical countenance,  "  I  know  not  what  penance  I  ought 
to  perform  for  that  most  sacrilegious  blow !  " 

"  Speak  no  more  of  it,  brother,"  said  the  King ;  "  after 
having  stood  so  many  cuffs  from  Paynims  and  misbe- 
lievers, I  were  void  of  reason  to  quarrel  with  the  buffet 
of  a  clerk  so  holy  as  he  of  Copmanhurst.  Yet,  mine 
honest  Friar,  I  think  it  would  be  best  both  for  the  church 
and  thyself  that  I  should  procure  a  license  to  unfrock  thee, 
and  retain  thee  as  a  yeoman  of  our  guard,  serving  in  care 
of  our  person,  as  formerly  in  attendance  upon  the  altar 
of  St.  Dunstan." 

"  My  Liege,"  said  the  Friar,  "  I  humbly  crave  your 
pardon ;  and  you  would  readily  grant  my  excuse,  did  you 
but  know  how  the  sin  of  laziness  has  beset  me.  St.  Dun- 
stan —  may  he  be  gracious  to  us !  —  stands  quiet  in  his 
niche,  though  I  should  forget  my  orisons  in  killing  a  fat 
buck ;  I  stay  out  of  my  cell  sometimes  a  night,  doing  I 
wot  not  what —  St.  Dunstan  never  complains  —  a  quiet 
master  he  is,  and  a  peaceful,  as  ever  was  made  of  wood. 
But  to  be  a  yeoman  in  attendance  on  my  sovereign  the 
King  —  the  honour  is  great,  doubtless  —  yet,  if  I  were 
but  to  step  aside  to  comfort  a  widow  in  one  corner,  or 
to  kill  a  deer  in  another,  it  would  be,  '  Where  is  the  dog 
Priest  ?  '  says  one.  '  Who  has  seen  the  accursed  Tuck  ?  ' 
says  another.  *  The  unfrocked  villain  destroys  more  veni- 
son than  half  the  country  besides/  says  one  keeper ;  'And 
is  hunting  after  every  shy  doe  in  the  country ! '  quoth  a 
second.  In  fine,  good  my  Liege,  I  pray  you  to  leave  me 
as  you  found  me;  or,  if  in  aught  you  desire  to  extend 


IVANHOE.  449 

your  benevolence  to  me,  that  I  may  be  considered  as  the 
poor  clerk  of  St.  Dunstan's  cell  in  Copmanhurst,  to  whom 
any  small  donation  will  be  most  thankfully  acceptable." 

"  I  understand  thee,"  said  the  King,  "  and  the  holy 
clerk  shall  have  a  grant  of  vert  and  venison  in  my  woods 
of  Wharncliffe.  Mark,  however,  I  will  but  assign  thee 
three  bucks  every  season;  but  if  that  do  not  prove  an 
apology  for  thy  slaying  thirty,  I  am  no  Christian  knight 
nor  true  king." 

"Your  Grace  may  be  well  assured,"  said  the  Friar, 
"that,  with  the  grace  of  St.  Dunstan,  I  shall  find  the 
way  of  multiplying  your  most  bounteous  gift." 

"  I  nothing  doubt  it,  good  brother,"  said  the  King ; 
"  and  as  venison  is  but  dry  food,  our  cellarer  shall  have 
orders  to  deliver  to  thee  a  butt  of  sack,  a  runlet  of  Mal- 
voisie,  and  three  hogsheads  of  ale  of  the  first  strike, 
yearly.  If  that  will  not  quench  thy  thirst,  thou  must 
come  to  court,  and  become  acquainted  with  my  butler." 

"  But  for  St.  Dunstan  ?  "  said  the  Friar 

"A  cope,  a  stole,  and  an  altar-cloth  shalt  thou  also 
have,"  continued  the  King,  crossing  himself.  "  But  we 
may  not  turn  our  game  into  earnest,  lest  God  punish  us 
for  thinking  more  on  our  follies  than  on  His  honour  and 
worship." 

"  I  will  answer  for  my  patron,"  said  the  priest,  joy- 
ously. 

"  Answer  for  thyself,  Friar,"  said  King  Richard,  some- 
thing sternly ;  but  immediately  stretching  out  his  hand 
to  the  hermit,  the  latter,  somewhat  abashed,  bent  his 
knee,  and  saluted  it.  "Thou  dost  less  honour  to  my 
extended  palm  than  to  my  clenched  fist,"  said  the  mon- 
arch ;  "  thou  didst  only  kneel  to  the  one,  and  to  the  other 
didst  prostrate  thyself." 

But  the  Friar,  afraid  perhaps  of  again  giving  offence 
by  continuing  the  conversation  in  too  jocose  a  style  —  a 
false  step  to  be  particularly  guarded  against  by  those  who 
converse  with  monarchs  —  bowed  profoundly,  and  fell 
into  the  rear. 

At  the  same  time,  two  additional  personages  appeared 
on  the  scene. 
2g 


450  IVANHOE. 


CHAPTER   XLI. 

All  hail  to  the  lordlings  of  high  degree, 

Who  live  not  more  happy,  though  greater  than  we  ! 

Our  pastimes  to  see, 

Under  every  green  tree, 
In  all  the  gay  woodland,  right  welcome  ye  be. 

Macdonald. 

The  new-comers  were  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe,  on  the  Prior 
of  Botolph's  palfrey,  and  Gurth,  who  attended  him,  on 
the  knight's  own  war-horse.  The  astonishment  of  Ivan- 
hoe  was  beyond  bounds  when  he  saw  his  master  be- 
sprinkled with  blood,  and  six  or  seven  dead  bodies  lying 
around  in  the  little  glade  in  which  the  battle  had  taken 
place.  Nor  was  he  less  surprised  to  see  Richard  sur- 
rounded by  so  many  silvan  attendants,  the  outlaws,  as 
they  seemed  to  be,  of  the  forest,  and  a  perilous  retinue 
therefore  for  a  prince.  He  hesitated  whether  to  address 
the  King  as  the  Black  Knight-errant,  or  in  what  other 
manner  to  demean  himself  towards  him.  Richard  saw 
his  embarrassment. 

"Fear  not,  Wilfred,"  he  said,  "to  address  Richard 
Plantagenet  as  himself,  since  thou  seest  him  in  the  com- 
pany of  true  English  hearts,  although  it  may  be  they  have 
been  urged  a  few  steps  aside  by  warm  English  blood." 

"  Sir  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe,"  said  the  gallant  outlaw, 
stepping  forward,  "my  assurances  can  add  nothing  to 
those  of  our  sovereign ;  yet,  let  me  say  somewhat  proudly, 
that  of  men  who  have  suffered  much,  he  hath  no  truer 
subjects  than  those  who  now  stand  around  him." 

"I  cannot  doubt  it,  brave  man,"  said  Wilfred,  "since 
thou  art  of  the  number.  But  what  mean  these  marks  of 
death  and  danger  —  these  slain  men,  and  the  bloody 
armour  of  my  Prince  ?  " 

"Treason  hath  been  with  us,  Ivanhoe,"  said  the  King; 
"but,  thanks  to  these  brave  men,  treason  hath  met  its 
meed.  But,  now  I  bethink  me,  thou  too  art  a  traitor," 
said  Richard,  smiling  — "  a  most  disobedient  traitor ; 
for   were   not   our   orders   positive   that   thou   shouldst 


IVANHOE.  451 

repose  thyself  at   St.  Botolph's   until   thy  wound  was 
healed  ?  " 

"  It  is  healed,"  said  Ivanhoe  —  "  it  is  not  of  more  con- 
sequence than  the  scratch  of  a  bodkin.  But  why — oh 
why,  noble  Prince,  will  you  thus  vex  the  hearts  of  your 
faithful  servants,  and  expose  your  life  by  lonely  journeys 
and  rash  adventures,  as  if  it  were  of  no  more  value  than 
that  of  a  mere  knight-errant,  who  has  no  interest  but  what 
lance  and  sword  may  procure  him  ?  " 

"  And  Richard  Plantagenet,"  said  the  King,  "  desires 
no  more  fame  than  his  good  lance  and  sword  may  acquire 
him ;  and  Richard  Plantagenet  is  prouder  of  achieving 
an  adventure,  with  only  his  good  sword  and  his  good  arm 
to  speed,  than  if  he  led  to  battle  an  host  of  an  hundred 
thousand  armed  men." 

"  But  your  kingdom,  my  Liege,"  said  Ivanhoe  —  "your 
kingdom  is  threatened  with  dissolution  and  civil  war  — 
your  subjects  are  menaced  with  every  species  of  evil,  if 
deprived  of  their  sovereign  in  some  of  those  dangers  which 
it  is  your  daily  pleasure  to  incur,  and  from  which  you 
have  but  this  moment  narrowly  escaped." 

"Ho!  ho!  my  kingdom  and  my  subjects!"  answered 
Richard,  impatiently ;  "  I  tell  thee,  Sir  Wilfred,  the  best 
of  them  are  most  willing  to  repay  my  follies  in  kind.  — 
For  example,  my  very  faithful  servant,  Wilfred  of  Ivan- 
hoe, will  not  obey  my  positive  commands,  and  yet  reads 
his  king  a  homily,  because  he  does  not  walk  exactly  by 
his  advice.  Which  of  us  has  most  reason  to  upbraid  the 
other  ?  — Yet  forgive  me,  my  faithful  Wilfred.  The  time 
I  have  spent,  and  am  yet  to  spend,  in  concealment  is, 
as  I  explained  to  thee  at  St.  Botolph's,  necessary  to  give 
my  friends  and  faithful  nobles  time  to  assemble  their 
forces,  that,  when  Richard's  return  is  announced,  he 
should  be  at  the  head  of  such  a  force  as  enemies  shall 
tremble  to  face,  and  thus  subdue  the  meditated  treason, 
without  even  unsheathing  a  sword.  Estoteville  and  Bo- 
him  will  not  be  strong  enough  to  move  forward  to  York 
for  twenty-four  hours.  I  must  have  news  of  Salisbury 
from  the  south,  and  of  Beauchamp  in  Warwickshire,  and 
of  Multon  and  Percy  in  the  north.     The  Chancellor  must 


452  IVANHOE. 

make  sure  of  London.  Too  sudden  an  appearance  would 
subject  me  to  dangers  other  than  my  lance  and  sword, 
though  backed  by  the  bow  of  bold  Robin,  or  the  quarter- 
staff  of  Friar  Tuck,  and  the  horn  of  the  sage  Wamba, 
may  be  able  to  rescue  me  from." 

Wilfred  bowed  in  submission,  well  knowing  how  vain 
it  was  to  contend  with  the  wild  spirit  of  chivalry  which 
so  often  impelled  his  master  upon  dangers  which  he 
might  easily  have  avoided,  or,  rather,  which  it  was  unpar- 
donable in  him  to  have  sought  out.  The  young  knight 
sighed,  therefore,  and  held  his  peace;  while  Richard, 
rejoiced  at  having  silenced  his  counsellor,  though  his 
heart  acknowledged  the  justice  of  the  charge  he  had 
brought  against  him,  went  on  in  conversation  with 
Robin  Hood.  "King  of  outlaws,"  he  said,  "have  you  no 
refreshment  to  offer  to  your  brother  sovereign  ?  for  these 
dead  knaves  have  found  me  both  in  exercise  and  appetite." 

"  In  troth,"  replied  the  outlaw,  "  for  I  scorn  to  lie  to 

your  Grace,  our  larder  is  chiefly  supplied  with "    He 

stopped,  and.  was  somewhat  embarrassed. 

"  With  venison,  I  suppose  ? "  said  Richard,  gaily ; 
"  better  food  at  need  there  can  be  none ;  and  truly,  if  a 
king  will  not  remain  at  home  and  slay  his  own  game, 
methinks  he  should  not  brawl  too  loud  if  he  finds  it  killed 
to  his  hand." 

"  If  your  Grace,  then,"  said  Robin,  "  will  again  honour 
with  your  presence  one  of  Robin  Hood's  places  of  ren- 
dezvous, the  venison  shall  not  be  lacking;  and  a  stoup 
of  ale,  and  it  may  be  a  cup  of  reasonably  good  wine,  to 
relish  it  withal." 

The  outlaw  accordingly  led  the  way,  followed  by  the 
buxom  monarch,  more  happy,  probably,  in  this  chance 
meeting  with  Robin  Hood  and  his  foresters  than  he  would 
have  been  in  again  assuming  his  royal  state,  and  presid- 
ing over  a  splendid  circle  of  peers  and  nobles.  Novelty 
in  society  and  adventure  was  the  zest  of  life  to  Richard 
Coeur-de-Lion,  and  it  had  its  highest  relish  when  en- 
hanced by  dangers  encountered  and  surmounted.  In  the 
lion-hearted  King,  the  brilliant,  but  useless,  character  of 
a  knight  of  romance  was  in  a  great  measure  realised  and 


IVANHOE.  453 

revived;  and  the  personal  glory  which  he  acquired  by 
his  own  deeds  of  arms  was  far  more  dear  to  his  excited 
imagination  than  that  which  a  course  of  policy  and  wis- 
dom would  have  spread  around  his  government.  Accord- 
ingly, his  reign  was  like  the  course  of  a  brilliant  and 
rapid  meteor,  which  shoots  along  the  face  of  heaven, 
shedding  around  an  unnecessary  and  portentous  light, 
which  is  instantly  swallowed  up  by  universal  darkness ; 
his  feats  of  chivalry  furnishing  themes  for  bards  and 
minstrels,  but  affording  none  of  those  solid  benefits  to  his 
country  on  which  history  loves  to  pause,  and  hold  up  as 
an  example  to  posterity.  But  in  his  present  company 
Richard  showed  to  the  greatest  imaginable  advantage. 
He  was  gay,  good-humoured,  and  fond  of  manhood  in 
every  rank  of  life. 

Beneath  a  huge  oak-tree  the  silvan  repast  was  hastily 
prepared  for  the  King  of  England,  surrounded  by  men 
outlaws  to  his  government,  but  who  now  formed  his  court 
and  his  guard.  As  the  flagon  went  round,  the  rough 
foresters  soon  lost  their  awe  for  the  presence  of  Majesty. 
The  song  and  the  jest  were  exchanged,  the  stories  of 
former  deeds  were  told  with  advantage ;  and  at  length, 
and  while  boasting  of  their  successful  infraction  of  the 
laws,  no  one  recollected  they  were  speaking  in  presence 
of  their  natural  guardian.  The  merry  King,  nothing 
heeding  his  dignity  any  more  than  his  company,  laughed, 
quaffed,  and  jested  among  the  jolly  band.  The  natural 
and  rough  sense  of  Robin  Hood  led  him  to  be  desirous 
that  the  scene  should  be  closed  ere  anything  should  occur 
to  disturb  its  harmony,  the  more  especially  that  he 
observed  Ivanhoe's  brow  clouded  with  anxiety.  "  We 
are  honoured,"  he  said  to  Ivanhoe,  apart,  "  by  the  pres- 
ence of  our  gallant  sovereign ;  yet  I  would  not  that  he 
dallied  with  time  which  the  circumstances  of  his  king- 
dom may  render  precious." 

"It  is  well  and  wisely  spoken,  brave  Robin  Hood," 
said  Wilfred,  apart;  "and  know,  moreover,  that  they 
who  jest  with  Majesty,  even  in  its  gayest  mood,  are  but 
toying  with  the  lion's  whelp,  which,  on  slight  provoca- 
tion, uses  both  fangs  and  claws." 


454  IVANHOE. 

"You  have  touched  the  very  cause  of  my  fear,"  said 
the  outlaw.  "  My  meu  are  rough  by  practice  aud  nature ; 
the  King  is  hasty  as  well  as  good-humoured ;  nor  know 
I  how  soon  cause  of  offence  may  arise,  or  how  warmly  it 
may  be  received — it  is  time  this  revel  were  broken  off." 

"  It  must  be  by  your  management  then,  gallant  yeo- 
man," said  Ivanhoe ;  "  for  each  hint  I  have  essayed  to 
give  him  serves  only  to  induce  him  to  prolong  it." 

"  Must  I  so  soon  risk  the  pardon  and  favour  of  my  sover- 
eign?" said  Robin  Hood,  pausing  for  an  instant;  "but, 
by  St.  Christopher,  it  shall  be  so.  I  were  undeserving  his 
grace  did  I  not  peril  it  for  his  good.  —  Here,  Scathlock, 
get  thee  behind  yonder  thicket,  and  wind  me  a  Norman 
blast  on  thy  bugle,  and  without  an  instant's  delay,  on 
peril  of  your  life." 

Scathlock  obeyed  his  captain,  and  in  less  than  five 
minutes  the  revellers  were  startled  by  the  sound  of  his 
horn. 

"It  is  the  bugle  of  Malvoisin,"  said  the  Miller,  start- 
ing to  his  feet,  and  seizing  his  bow.  The  Friar  dropped 
the  flagon,  and  grasped  his  quarter-staff.  Wamba  stopt 
short  in  the  midst  of  a  jest,  and  betook  himself  to  sword 
and  target.     All  the  others  stood  to  their  weapons. 

Men  of  their  precarious  course  of  life  change  readily 
from  the  banquet  to  the  battle ;  and  to  Richard  the  ex- 
change seemed  but  a  succession  of  pleasure.  He  called 
for  his  helmet  and  the  most  cumbrous  parts  of  his 
armour,  which  he  had  laid  aside ;  and  while  Gurth  was 
putting  them  on,  he  laid  his  strict  injunctions  on  Wil- 
fred, under  pain  of  his  highest  displeasure,  not  to  engage 
in  the  skirmish  which  he  supposed  was  approaching. 

"  Thou  hast  fought  for  me  an  hundred  times,  Wilfred, 
and  I  have  seen  it.  Thou  shalfc  this  day  look  on,  and  see 
how  Richard  will  fight  for  his  friend  and  liegeman." 

In  the  meantime,  Robin  Hood  had  sent  off  several  of 
his  followers  in  different  directions,  as  if  to  reconnoitre 
the  enemy ;  and  when  he  saw  the  company  effectually 
broken  up,  he  approached  Richard,  who  was  now  com- 
pletely armed,  and,  kneeling  down  on  one  knee,  craved 
pardon  of  his  sovereign. 


IVANHOE.  455 

"For  what,  good  yeoman ?"  said  Richard,  somewhat 
impatiently.  "  Have  we  not  already  granted  thee  a  full 
pardon  for  all  transgressions  ?  Thinkest  thou  our  word 
is  a  feather,  to  be  blown  backward  and  forward  between 
us  ?  Thou  canst  not  have  time  to  commit  any  new  offence 
since  that  time  ?  " 

"  Ay,  but  I  have  though,"  answered  the  yeoman,  "  if  it 
be  an  offence  to  deceive  my  prince  for  his  own  advantage. 
The  bugle  you  have  heard  was  none  of  Malvoisin's,  but 
blown  by  my  direction,  to  break  off  the  banquet,  lest  it 
trenched  upon  hours  of  dearer  import  than  to  be  thus 
dallied  with." 

He  then  rose  from  his  knee,  folded  his  arms  on  his 
bosom,  and,  in  a  manner  rather  respectful  than  submis- 
sive awaited  the  answer  of  the  King,  like  one  who  is 
conscious  he  may  have  given  offence,  yet  is  confident  in 
the  rectitude  of  his  motive.  The  blood  rushed  in  anger  to 
the  countenance  of  Richard ;  but  it  was  the  first  transient 
emotion,  and  his  sense  of  justice  instantly  subdued  it. 

"The  King  of  Sherwood,"  he  said,  "grudges  his  venison 
and  his  wine-flask  to  the  King  of  England  !  It  is  well, 
bold  Robin !  but  when  you  come  to  see  me  in  merry  Lon- 
don, I  trust  to  be  a  less  niggard  host.  Thou  art  right, 
however,  good  fellow.  Let  us  therefore  to  horse  and 
away.  Wilfred  has  been  impatient  this  hour. —  Tell  me, 
bold  Robin,  hast  thou  never  a  friend  in  thy  band,  who, 
not  content  with  advising,  will  needs  direct  thy  motions 
and  look  miserable  when  thou  dost  presume  to  act  for 
thyself  ?  " 

"  Such  a  one,"  said  Robin,  "  is  my  lieutenant,  Little 
John,  who  is  even  now  absent  on  an  expedition  as  far  as 
the  borders  of  Scotland ;  and  I  will  own  to  your  Majesty 
that  I  am  sometimes  displeased  by  the  freedom  of  his 
counsels ;  but,  when  I  think  twice,  I  cannot  be  long  angry 
with  one  who  can  have  no  motive  for  his  anxiety  save 
zeal  for  his  master's  service." 

"Thou  art  right,  good  yeoman,"  answered  Richard; 
"  and  if  I  had  Ivanhoe,  on  the  one  hand,  to  give  grave 
advice,  and  recommend  it  by  the  sad  gravity  of  his  brow, 
and  thee,  on  the  other,  to  trick  me  into  what  thou  think- 


456  IVANHOE. 

est  my  own  good,  I  should  have  as  little  the  freedom  of 
mine  own  will  as  any  king  in  Christendom  or  Heathenesse. 
—  But  come,  sirs,  let  us  merrily  on  to  Coningsburgh, 
and  think  no  more  on't." 

Robin  Hood  assured  them  that  he  had  detached  a  party 
in  the  direction  of  the  road  they  were  to  pass,  who  would 
not  fail  to  discover  and  apprise  them  of  any  secret 
ambuscade ;  and  that  he  had  little  doubt  they  would  find 
the  ways  secure,  or,  if  otherwise,  would  receive  such 
timely  notice  of  the  danger  as  would  enable  them  to  fall 
back  on  a  strong  troop  of  archers,  with  which  he  himself 
proposed  to  follow  on  the  same  route. 

The  wise  and  attentive  precautions  adopted  for  his 
safety  touched  Richard's  feelings,  and  removed  any  slight 
grudge  which  he  might  retain  on  account  of  the  deception 
the  outlaw  captain  had  practised  upon  him.  He  once 
more  extended  his  hand  to  Robin  Hood,  assured  him  of 
his  full  pardon  and  future  favour,  as  well  as  his  firm 
resolution  to  restrain  the  tyrannical  exercise  of  the  forest 
rights  and  other  oppressive  laws,  by  which  so  many 
English  yeomen  were  driven  into  a  state  of  rebellion. 
But  Richard's  good  intentions  towards  the  bold  outlaw 
were  frustrated  by  the  King's  untimely  death ;  and  the 
Charter  of  the  Forest  was  extorted  from  the  unwilling 
hands  of  King  John  when  he  succeeded  to  his  heroic 
brother.  As  for  the  rest  of  Robin  Hood's  career,  as  well 
as  the  tale  of  his  treacherous  death,  they  are  to  be  found 
in  those  black-letter  gariands,  once  sold  at  the  low  and 
easy  rate  of  one  half-penny  — 

"  Now  cheaply  purchased  at  their  weight  in  gold." 

The  outlaw's  opinion  proved  true  ;  and  the  King,  at- 
tended by  Ivanhoe,  Gurth,  and  Wamba,  arrived  without 
any  interruption  within  view  of  the  Castle  of  Conings- 
burgh, while  the  sun  was  yet  in  the  horizon. 

There  are  few  more  beautiful  or  striking  scenes  in 
England  than  are  presented  by  the  vicinity  of  this  ancient 
Saxon  fortress.  The  soft  and  gentle  river  Don  sweeps 
through  an  amphitheatre,  in  which  cultivation  is  richly 
blended  with  woodland,  and  on  a  mount  ascending  from 


IVANHOE.  457 

the  river,  well  defended  by  walls  and  ditches,  rises  this 
ancient  edifice,  which,  as  its  Saxon  name  implies,  was, 
previous  to  the  Conquest,  a  royal  residence  of  the  kings 
of  England.  The  outer  walls  have  probably  been  added 
by  the  Normans,  but  the  inner  keep  bears  token  of  a  very 
great  antiquity.  It  is  situated  on  a  mount  at  one  angle 
of  the  inner  court,  and  forms  a  complete  circle  of  perhaps 
twenty-five  feet  in  diameter.  The  wall  is  of  immense 
thickness,  and  is  propped  or  defended  by  six  huge  exter- 
nal buttresses,  which  project  from  the  circle,  and  rise  up 
against  the  sides  of  the  tower  as  if  to  strengthen  or  to 
support  it.  These  massive  buttresses  are  solid  when  they 
arise  from  the  foundation,  and  a  good  way  higher  up  ; 
but  are  hollowed  out  towards  the  top,  and  terminate  in  a 
sort  of  turrets  communicating  with  the  interior  of  the 
keep  itself.  The  distant  appearance  of  this  huge  build- 
ing, with  these  singular  accompaniments,  is  as  interesting 
to  the  lovers  of  the  picturesque  as  the  interior  of  the 
castle  is  to  the  eager  antiquary,  whose  imagination  it  car- 
ries back  to  the  days  of  the  Heptarchy.  A  barrow,  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  castle,  is  pointed  out  as  the  tomb  of 
the  memorable  Hengist;  and  various  monuments,  of  great 
antiquity  and  curiosity,  are  shown  in  the  neighbouring 
churchyard. 

When  Cceur-de-Lion  and  his  retinue  approached  this 
rude  yet  stately  building,  it  was  not,  as  at  present,  sur- 
rounded by  external  fortifications.  The  Saxon  architect 
had  exhausted  his  art  in  rendering  the  main  keep  defensi- 
ble, and  there  was  no  other  circumvallation  than  a  rude 
barrier  of  palisades. 

A  huge  black  banner,  which  floated  from  the  top  of 
the  tower,  announced  that  the  obsequies  of  the  late  owner 
were  still  in  the  act  of  being  solemnised.  It  bore  no  em- 
blem of  the  deceased's  birth  or  quality,  for  armorial  bear- 
ings were  then  a  novelty  among  the  Norman  chivalry 
themselves,  and  were  totally  unknown  to  the  Saxons. 
But  above  the  gate  was  another  banner,  on  which  the 
figure  of  a  white  horse,  rudely  painted,  indicated  the  na- 
tion and  rank  of  the  deceased,  by  the  well-known  symbol 
of  Hengist  and  his  Saxon  warriors. 


458  IVANHOE. 

All  around  the  castle  was  a  scene  of  busy  commotion ; 
for  such  funeral  banquets  were  times  of  general  and  pro- 
fuse hospitality,  which  not  only  every  one  who  could 
claim  the  most  distant  connexion  with  the  deceased,  but 
all  passengers  whatsoever,  were  invited  to  partake.  The 
wealth  and  consequence  of  the  deceased  Athelstane  oc- 
casioned this  custom  to  be  observed  in  the  fullest  extent. 

Numerous  parties,  therefore,  were  seen  ascending  and 
descending  the  hill  on  which  the  castle  was  situated; 
and  when  the  King  and  his  attendants  entered  the  open 
and  unguarded  gates  of  the  external  barrier,  the  space 
within  presented  a  scene  not  easily  reconciled  with  the 
cause  of  the  assemblage.  In  one  place  cooks  were  toiling 
to  roast  huge  oxen  and  fat  sheep  ;  in  another,  hogsheads 
of  ale  were  set  abroach,  to  be  drained  at  the  freedom  of 
all  comers.  Groups  of  every  description  were  to  be  seen 
devouring  the  food  and  swallowing  the  liquor  thus  aban- 
doned to  their  discretion.  The  naked  Saxon  serf  was 
drowning  the  sense  of  his  half-year's  hunger  and  thirst 
in  one  day  of  gluttony  and  drunkenness;  the  more  pam- 
pered burgess  and  guild-brother  was  eating  his  morsel 
with  gust,  or  curiously  criticising  the  quantity  of  the 
malt  and  the  skill  of  the  brewer.  Some  few  of  the  poorer 
Norman  gentry  might  also  be  seen,  distinguished  by 
their  shaven  chins  and  short  cloaks,  and  not  less  so  by 
their  keeping  together,  and  looking  with  great  scorn  on 
the  whole  solemnity,  even  while  condescending  to  avail 
themselves  of  the  good  oheer  which  was  so  liberally  sup- 
plied. 

Mendicants  were,  of  course,  assembled  by  the  score, 
together  with  strolling  soldiers  returned  from  Palestine 
(according  to  their  own  account  at  least) ;  pedlars  were 
displaying  their  wares;  travelling  mechanics  were  inquir- 
ing after  employment;  and  wandering  palmers,  hedge- 
priests,  Saxon  minstrels,  and  Welsh  bards  were  mutter- 
ing prayers,  and  extracting  mistimed  dirges  from  their 
harps,  crowds,  and  rotes.  One  sent  forth  the  praises 
of  Athelstane  in  a  doleful  panegyric  ;  another,  in  a  Saxon 
genealogical  poem,  rehearsed  the  uncouth  and  harsh  names 
of  his  noble  ancestry.      Jesters  and  jugglers  were  not 


IVANHOE.  459 

wanting,  nor  was  the  occasion  of  the  assembly  supposed 
to  render  the  exercise  of  their  profession  indecorous  or 
improper.  Indeed,  the  ideas  of  the  Saxons  on  these  oc- 
casions were  as  natural  as  they  were  rude.  If  sorrow  was 
thirsty,  there  was  drink  —  if  hungry,  there  was  food  —  if 
it  sunk  down  upon  and  saddened  the  heart,  here  were  the 
means  supplied  of  mirth,  or  at  least  of  amusement.  Nor 
did  the  assistants  scorn  to  avail  themselves  of  those 
means  of  consolation,  although,  every  now  and  then,  as 
if  suddenly  recollecting  the  cause  which  had  brought 
them  together,  the  men  groaned  in  unison,  while  the  fe- 
males, of  whom  many  were  present,  raised  up  their  voices 
and  shrieked  for  very  woe. 

Such  was  the  scene  in  the  castle-yard  at  Coningsburgh 
when  it  was  entered  by  Richard  and  his  followers.  The 
seneschal  or  steward  deigned  not  to  take  notice  of  the 
groups  of  inferior  guests  who  were  perpetually  entering 
and  withdrawing,  unless  so  far  as  was  necessary  to  pre- 
serve order;  nevertheless,  he  was  struck  by  the  good 
mien  of  the  Monarch  and  Ivanhoe,  more  especially  as 
he  imagined  the  features  of  the  latter  were  familiar  to 
him.  Besides,  the  approach  of  two  knights,  for  such 
their  dress  bespoke  them,  was  a  rare  event  at  a  Saxon 
solemnity,  and  could  not  but  be  regarded  as  a  sort  of 
honour  to  the  deceased  and  his  family.  And  in  his  sable 
dress,  and  holding  in  his  hand  his  white  wand  of  office, 
this  important  personage  made  way  through  the  miscel- 
laneous assemblage  of  guests,  thus  conducting  Richard 
and  Ivanhoe  to  the  entrance  of  the  tower.  Gurth  and 
Wamba  speedily  found  acquaintances  in  the  court-yard, 
nor  presumed  to  intrude  themselves  any  farther  until 
their  presence  should  be  required. 


460  IVANHOB. 


CHAPTER  XLIL 

I  found  them  winding  of  Marcello's  corpse. 
And  there  was  such  a  solemn  melody, 
'Twixt  doleful  songs,  tears,  and  sad  elegies,  — 
Such  as  old  grandames,  watching  by  the  dead, 
Are  wont  to  outwear  the  night  with. 

Old  Play. 

The  mode  of  entering  the  great  tower  of  Coningsbnrgh 
Castle  is  very  peculiar,  and  partakes  of  the  rude  simplic- 
ity of  the  early  times  in  which  it  was  erected.  A  flight 
of  steps,  so  deep  and  narrow  as  to  be  almost  precipitous, 
leads  up  to  a  low  portal  in  the  south  side  of  the  tower,  by 
which  the  adventurous  antiquary  may  still,  or  at  least 
could  a  few  years  since,  gain  access  to  a  small  stair 
within  the  thickness  of  the  main  wall  of  the  tower, 
which  leads  up  to  the  third  story  of  the  building  — 
the  two  lower  being  dungeons  or  vaults,  which  neither 
receive  air  nor  light,  save  by  a  square  hole  in  the  third 
story,  with  which  they  seem  to  have  communicated  by 
a  ladder.  The  access  to  the  upper  apartments  in  the 
tower,  which  consist  in  all  of  four  stories,  is  given  by 
stairs  which  are  carried  up  through  the  external  but- 
tresses. 

By  this  difficult  and  complicated  entrance,  the  good  King 
Richard,  followed  by  his  faithful  Ivanhoe,  was  ushered 
into  the  round  apartment  which  occupies  the  whole  of  the 
third  story  from  the  ground.  Wilfred,  by  the  difficulties 
of  the  ascent,  gained  time  to  muffle  his  face  in  his  mantle, 
as  it  had  been  held  expedient  that  he  should  not  present 
himself  to  his  father  until  the  King  should  give  him  the 
signal. 

There  were  assembled  in  this  apartment,  around  a  large 
oaken  table,  about  a  dozen  of  the  most  distinguished  rep- 
resentatives of  the  Saxon  families  in  the  adjacent  counties. 
These  were  all  old,  or  at  least  elderly,  men ;  for  the  younger 
race,  to  the  great  displeasure  of  the  seniors,  had,  like  Ivan- 
hoe, broken  down  many  of  the  barriers  which  separated 
for  half  a  century  the  Norman  victors  from  the  vanquished 


IVAN  HOE.  461 

Saxons.  The  downcast  and  sorrowful  looks  of  these  vener- 
able men,  their  silence  and  their  mournful  posture,  formed 
a  strong  contrast  to  the  levity  of  the  revellers  on  the  out- 
side of  the  castle.  Their  grey  locks  and  long  full  beards, 
together  with  their  antique  tunics  and  loose  black  man- 
tles, suited  well  with  the  singular  and  rude  apartment  in 
which  they  were  seated,  and  gave  the  appearance  of  a 
band  of  ancient  worshippers  of  Woden,  recalled  to  life  to 
mourn  over  the  decay  of  their  national  glory. 

Cedric,  seated  in  equal  rank  among  his  countrymen, 
seemed  yet,  by  common  consent,  to  act  as  chief  of  the 
assembly.  Upon  the  entrance  of  Richard  (only  known 
to  him  as  the  valorous  Knight  of  the  Fetterlock)  he  arose 
gravely,  and  gave  him  weloome  by  the  ordinary  saluta- 
tion, Waes  hael,  raising  at  the  same  time  a  goblet  to  his 
head.  The  King,  no  stranger  to  the  customs  of  his  Eng- 
lish subjects,  returned  the  greeting  with  the  appropriate 
words,  Drinc  hael,  and  partook  of  a  cup  which  was  handed 
to  him  by  the  sewer.  The  same  courtesy  was  offered  to 
Ivanhoe,  who  pledged  his  father  in  silence,  supplying  the 
usual  speech  by  an  inclination  of  his  head,  lest  his  voice 
should  have  been  recognised. 

When  this  introductory  ceremony  was  performed,  Ced- 
ric arose,  and,  extending  his  hand  to  Richard,  conducted 
him  into  a  small  and  very  rude  chapel,  which  was  exca- 
vated, as  it  were,  out  of  one  of  the  external  buttresses. 
As  there  was  no  openm0,  .aving  a  very  narrow  loophole, 
the  place  would  have  been  nearly  quite  dark  but  for  two 
flambeaux  or  torches,  which  showed,  by  a  red  and  smoky 
light,  the  arched  roof  and  naked  walls,  the  rude  altar  of 
stone,  and  the  crucifix  of  the  same  material. 

Before  this  altar  was  placed  a  bier,  and  on  each  side 
of  this  bier  kneeled  three  priests,  who  told  their  beads, 
and  muttered  their  prayers,  with  the  greatest  signs  of 
external  devotion.  For  this  service  a  splendid  soul-scat 
was  paid  to  the  convent  of  St.  Edmund's  by  the  mother 
of  the  deceased;  and,  that  it  might  be  fully  deserved, 
the  whole  brethren,  saving  the  lame  Sacristan,  had  trans- 
ferred themselves  to  Coningsburgh,  where,  while  six  of 
their  number  were  constantly  on  guard  in  the  perform- 


462  IV AN  HOE. 

ance  of  divine  rites  by  the  bier  of  Athelstane,  the  others 
failed  not  to  take  their  share  of  the  refreshments  and 
amusements  which  went  on  at  the  castle.  In  maintain- 
ing this  pious  watch  and  ward,  the  good  monks  were 
particularly  careful  not  to  interrupt  their  hymns  for  an 
instant,  lest  Zernebock,  the  ancient  Saxon  Apollyon, 
should  lay  his  clutches  on  the  departed  Athelstane. 
Nor  were  they  less  careful  to  prevent  any  unhallowed 
layman  from  touching  the  pall,  which  having  been  that 
used  at  the  funeral  of  St.  Edmund,  was  liable  to  be  dese- 
crated if  handled  by  the  profane.  If,  in  truth,  these  at- 
tentions could  be  of  any  use  to  the  deceased,  he  had 
some  right  to  expect  them  at  the  hands  of  the  brethren 
of  St.  Edmund's,  since,  besides  a  hundred  mancuses  of 
gold  paid  down  as  the  soul-ransom,  the  mother  of  Athel- 
stane had  announced  her  intention  of  endowing  that 
foundation  with  the  better  part  of  the  lands  of  the  de- 
ceased, in  order  to  maintain  perpetual  prayers  for  his 
soul  and  that  of  her  departed  husband. 

Richard  and  Wilfred  followed  the  Saxon  Cedric  into 
the  apartment  of  death,  where,  as  their  guide  pointed 
with  solemn  air  to  the  untimely  bier  of  Athelstane,  they 
followed  his  example  in  devoutly  crossing  themselves, 
and  muttering  a  brief  prayer  for  the  weal  of  the  departed 
soul. 

This  act  of  pious  charity  performed,  Cedric  again  mo- 
tioned them  to  follow  him,  gilding  over  the  stone  floor 
with  a  noiseless  tread ;  and,  after  ascending  a  few  steps, 
opened  with  great  caution  the  door  of  a  small  oratory, 
which  adjoined  to  the  chapel.  It  was  about  eight  feet 
square,  hollowed,  like  the  chapel  itself,  out  of  the  thick- 
ness of  the  wall ;  and  the  loophole  which  enlightened  it 
being  to  the  west,  and  widening  considerably  as  it  sloped 
inward,  a  beam  of  the  setting  sun  found  its  way  into  its 
dark  recess,  and  showed  a  female  of  a  dignified  mien, 
and  whose  countenance  retained  the  marked  remains  of 
majestic  beauty.  Her  long  mourning  robes,  and  her  flow- 
ing wimple  of  black  cypress,  enhanced  the  whiteness  of 
her  skin,  and  the  beauty  of  her  light-coloured  and  flow- 
ing tresses,  which  time  had  neither  thinned  nor  mingled 


IVANHOE.  463 

with  silver.  Her  countenance  expressed  the  deepest  sor- 
row that  is  consistent  with  resignation.  On  the  stone 
table  before  her  stood  a  crucifix  of  ivory,  beside  which 
was  laid  a  missal,  having  its  pages  richly  illuminated, 
and  its  boards  adorned  with  clasps  of  gold  and  bosses  of 
the  same  precious  metal. 

"  Noble  Edith,"  said  Cedric,  after  having  stood  a  mo- 
ment silent,  as  if  to  give  Richard  and  Wilfred  time  to 
look  upon  the  lady  of  the  mansion,  "these  are  worthy 
strangers  come  to  take  a  part  in  thy  sorrows.  And  this, 
in  especial,  is  the  valiant  knight  who  fought  so  bravely 
for  the  deliverance  of  him  for  whom  we  this  day  mourn." 

"  His  bravery  has  my  thanks,"  returned  the  lady ;  "  al- 
though it  be  the  will  of  Heaven  that  it  should  be  dis- 
played in  vain.  I  thank,  too,  his  courtesy,  and  that  of 
his  companion,  which  hath  brought  them  hither  to  be- 
hold the  widow  of  Adding,  the  mother  of  Athelstane, 
in  her  deep  hour  of  sorrow  and  lamentation.  To  your 
care,  kind  kinsman,  I  entrust  them,  satisfied  that  they 
will  want  no  hospitality  which  these  sad  walls  can  yet 
afford." 

The  guests  bowed  deeply  to  the  mourning  parent,  and 
withdrew  with  their  hospitable  guide. 

Another  winding  stair  conducted  them  to  an  apart- 
ment of  the  same  size  with  that  which  they  had  first 
entered,  occupying,  indeed,  the  story  immediately  above. 
From  this  room,  ere  yet  the  door  was  opened,  proceeded 
a  low  and  melancholy  strain  of  vocal  music.  When 
they  entered,  they  found  themselves  in  the  presence  of 
about  twenty  matrons  and  maidens  of  distinguished 
Saxon  lineage.  Four  maidens,  Rowena  leading  the 
choir,  raised  a  hymn  for  the  soul  of  the  deceased,  of 
which  we  have  only  been  able  to  decipher  two  or  three 
stanzas : 

Dust  unto  dust, 

To  this  all  must. 

The  tenant  hath  resign'd 

The  faded  form 

To  waste  and  worm  : 

Corruption  claims  her  kind. 


464  IVANHOE. 

Through  paths  unknown 
Thy  soul  hath  flown, 
To  seek  the  realms  of  woe, 
Where  fiery  pain 
Shall  purge  the  stain 
Of  actions  done  below. 

In  that  sad  place, 

By  Mary's  grace, 

Brief  may  thy  dwelling  be  ! 

Till  prayers  and  alms, 

And  holy  psalms, 

Shall  set  the  captive  free. 

While  this  dirge  was  sung,  in  a  low  and  melancholy 
tone,  by  the  female  choristers,  the  others  were  divided 
into  two  bands,  of  which  one  was  engaged  in  bedecking, 
with  such  embroidery  as  their  skill  and  taste  could  com- 
pass, a  large  silken  pall,  destined  to  cover  the  bier  of 
Athelstane,  while  the  others  busied  themselves  in  se- 
lecting, from  baskets  of  flowers  placed  before  them, 
garlands,  which  they  intended  for  the  same  mournful 
purpose.  The  behaviour  of  the  maidens  was  decorous,  if 
not  marked  with  deep  affliction ;  but  now  and  then  a 
whisper  or  a  smile  called  forth  the  rebuke  of  the  severer 
matrons,  and  here  and  there  might  be  seen  a  damsel 
more  interested  in  endeavouring  to  find  out  how  her 
mourning-robe  became  her,  than  in  the  dismal  ceremony 
for  which  they  were  preparing.  Neither  was  this  pro- 
pensity (if  we  must  needs  confess  the  truth)  at  all  dimin- 
ished by  the  appearance  of  two  strange  knights,  which 
occasioned  some  looking  up,  peeping,  and  whispering. 
Rowena  alone,  too  proud  to  be  vain,  paid  her  greeting  to 
her  deliverer  with  a  graceful  courtesy.  Her  demeanour 
was  serious,  but  not  dejected;  and  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  thoughts  of  Ivanhoe,  and  the  uncertainty  of  his 
fate,  did  not  claim  as  great  a  share  in  her  gravity  as  the 
death  of  her  kinsman. 

To  Cedric,  who,  however,  as  we  have  observed,  was 
not  remarkably  clear-sighted  on  such  occasions,  the  sor- 
row of  his  ward  seemed  so  much  deeper  than  any  of  the 
other  maidens  that  he  deemed  it  proper  to  whisper  the 


IVANHOE.  46 


K 


explanation,  —  "  She  was  the  affianced  bride  of  the  noble 
Athelstane." —  It  may  be  doubted  whether  this  communi- 
cation went  a  far  way  to  increase  Wilfred's  disposition  to 
sympathise  with  the  mourners  of  Coningsburgh. 

Having  thus  formally  introduced  the  guests  to  the  dif- 
ferent chambers  in  which  the  obsequies  of  Athelstane 
were  celebrated  under  different  forms,  Cedric  conducted 
them  into  a  small  room,  destined,  as  he  informed  them, 
for  the  exclusive  accommodation  of  honourable  guests, 
whose  more  slight  connexion  with  the  deceased  might 
render  them  unwilling  to  join  those  who  were  immedi- 
ately affected  by  the  unhappy  event.  He  assured  them 
of  every  accommodation,  and  was  about  to  withdraw  when 
the  Black  Knight  took  his  hand. 

"  I  crave  to  remind  you,  noble  thane,"  he  said,  "  that 
when  we  last  parted  you  promised,  for  the  service  I  had 
the  fortune  to  render  you,  to  grant  me  a  boon." 

"  It  is  granted  ere  named,  noble  Knight,"  said  Cedric ; 
u  yet,  at  this  sad  moment " 

"  Of  that  also,"  said  the  King,  "  I  have  bethought  me ; 
but  my  time  is  brief;  neither  does  it  seem  to  me  unfit 
that,  when  closing  the  grave  on  the  noble  Athelstane, 
we  should  deposit  therein  certain  prejudices  and  hasty 
opinions." 

"  Sir  Knight  of  the  Fetterlock,"  said  Cedric,  colouring, 
and  interrupting  the  King  in  his  turn,  "I  trust  your 
boon  regards  yourself  and  no  other;  for  in  that  which 
concerns  the  honour  of  my  house,  it  is  scarce  fitting  that 
a  stranger  should  mingle." 

"Nor  do  I  wish  to  mingle,"  said  the  King,  mildly, 
"  unless  in  so  far  as  you  will  admit  me  to  have  an  inter- 
est. As  yet  you  have  known  me  but  as  the  Black  Knight 
of  the  Fetterlock.  —  Know  me  now  as  Richard  Plan- 
tagenet." 

"  Richard  of  Anjou !  "  exclaimed  Cedric,  stepping  back- 
ward with  the  utmost  astonishment. 

"  No,  noble  Cedric  —  Richard  of  England  !  whose  deep- 
est interest  —  whose  deepest  wish,   is  to  see   her  sons 
united  with  each  other.      And  how  now,  worthy  thane  \ 
hast  thou  no  knee  for  thy  prince  ?  " 
2h 


466  IVANHOE. 

"To  Norman  blood/'  said  Cedric,  "it  hath  never 
bended." 

"  Reserve  thine  homage  then,"  said  the  Monarch,  "  until 
I  shall  prove  my  right  to  it  by  my  equal  protection  of 
Normans  and  English." 

"  Prince,"  answered  Cedric,  "  I  have  ever  done  justice  to 
thy  bravery  and  thy  worth.  Nor  am  I  ignorant  of  thy 
claim  to  the  crown  through  thy  descent  from  Matilda, 
niece  to  Edgar  Atheling,  and  daughter  to  Malcolm  of 
Scotland.  But  Matilda,  though  of  the  royal  Saxon 
blood,  was  not  the  heir  to  the  monarchy." 

"  I  will  not  dispute  my  title  with  thee,  noble  thane," 
said  Richard,  calmly ;  "  but  I  will  bid  thee  look  around 
thee,  and  see  where  thou  wilt  find  another  to  be  put  into 
the  scale  against  it." 

"  And  hast  thou  wandered  hither,  Prince,  to  tell  me 
so  ?  "  said  Cedric  —  "  to  upbraid  me  with  the  ruin  of  my 
race,  ere  the  grave  has  closed  o'er  the  last  scion  of  Saxon 
royalty  ? "  His  countenance  darkened  as  he  spoke. 
"  It  was  boldly  —  it  was  rashly  done  !  " 

"  Not  so,  by  the  holy  rood  ! "  replied  the  King ;  "  it  was 
done  in  the  frank  confidence  which  one  brave  man  may 
repose  in  another,  without  a  shadow  of  danger." 

"  Thou  sayest  well,  Sir  King  —  for  King  I  own  thou 
art,  and  wilt  be,  despite  of  my  feeble  opposition.  I  dare 
not  take  the  only  mode  to  prevent  it,  though  thou  hast 
placed  the  strong  temptation  within  my  reach !  " 

"  And  now  to  my  boon,""  said  the  King,  "  which  I  ask 
not  with  one  jot  the  less  confidence,  that  thou  hast  refused 
to  acknowledge  my  lawful  sovereignty.  I  require  of  thee, 
as  a  man  of  thy  word,  on  pain  of  being  held  faithless, 
man-sworn,  and  nidering,  to  forgive  and  receive  to  thy 
paternal  affection  the  good  knight,  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe. 
In  this  reconciliation  thou  wilt  own  I  have  an  interest  — 
the  happiness  of  my  friend,  and  the  quelling  of  dissension 
among  my  faithful  people." 

"  And  this  is  Wilfred ! "  said  Cedric,  pointing  to  his 
son. 

"  My  father  !  —  my  father  !  "  said  Ivanhoe,  prostrating 
himself  at  Cedric's  feet,  "grant  me  thy  forgiveness!" 


c? 


^T^tjefe-^^- 


t 


'PQj  fatter  !  -  ny  Mfer  !     s-aid  Jy-anVpe^ 


IVANHOE.  467 

"Thou  hast  it,  my  son,"  said  Cedric,  raising  him  np. 
*'  The  son  of  Hereward  knows  how  to  keep  his  word,  even 
when  it  has  been  passed  to  a  Norman.  But  let  me  see 
thee  nse  the  dress  and  costume  of  thy  English  ancestry : 
no  short  cloaks,  no  gay  bonnets,  no  fantastic  plumage  in 
my  decent  household.  He  that  would  be  the  son  of  Cedric 
must  show  himself  of  English  ancestry.  Thou  art  about 
to  speak,"  he  added,  sternly,  "  and  I  guess  the  topic. 
The  Lady  Rowena  must  complete  two  years'  mourning, 
as  for  a  betrothed  husband  —  all  our  Saxon  ancestors 
would  disown  us  were  we  to  treat  of  a  new  union  for  her 
ere  the  grave  of  him  she  should  have  wedded  —  him  so 
much  the  most  worthy  of  her  hand  by  birth  and  ancestry 
— is  yet  closed.  The  ghost  of  Athelstane  himself  would 
burst  his  bloody  cerements,  and  stand  before  us  to  forbid 
such  dishonour  to  his  memory." 

It  seemed  as  if  Cedric's  words  had  raised  a  spectre ;  for 
scarce  had  he  uttered  them  ere  the  door  flew  open,  and 
Athelstane,  arrayed  in  the  garments  of  the  grave,  stood 
before  them,  pale,  haggard,  and  like  something  arisen 
from  the  dead ! 

The  effect  of  this  apparition  on  the  persons  present 
was  utterly  appalling.  Cedric  started  back  as  far  as  the 
wall  of  the  apartment  would  permit,  and,  leaning  against 
it  as  one  unable  to  support  himself,  gazed  on  the  figure 
of  his  friend  with  eyes  that  seemed  fixed,  and  a  mouth 
which  he  appeared  incapable  of  shutting.  Ivanhoe  crossed 
himself,  repeating  prayers  in  Saxon,  Latin,  or  Norman- 
French,  as  they  occurred  to  his  memory,  while  Richard 
alternately  said  "Benedicite"  and  swore,  "Mort  de  ma  vie  /" 

In  the  meantime  a  horrible  noise  was  heard  below 
stairs,  some  crying,  "  Secure  the  treacherous  monks  ! "  — 
others,  "  Down  with  them  into  the  dungeon  !  "  —  others, 
"  Pitch  them  from  the  highest  battlements  ! " 

"  In  the  name  of  God !  "  said  Cedric,  addressing  what 
seemed  the  spectre  of  his  departed  friend,  "if  thou  art 
mortal,  speak  !  —  if  a  departed  spirit,  say  for  what  cause 
thou  dost  revisit  us,  or  if  I  can  do  aught  that  can  set 
thy  spirit  at  repose.  —  Living  or  dead,  noble  Athelstane, 
speak  to  Cedric  !  " 


468  IVANHOE. 


u 


I  will,"  said  the  spectre,  very  composedly,  "when  I 
have  collected  breath,  and  when  you  give  me  time.  — 
Alive,  saidst  thou  ?  I  am  as  much  alive  as  he  can  be 
who  has  fed  on  bread  and  water  for  three  days,  which 
seem  three  ages.  —  Yes,  bread  and  water,  father  Cedric! 
By  Heaven,  and  all  saints  in  it,  better  food  hath  not 
passed  my  weasand  for  three  livelong  days,  and  by  God's 
providence  it  is  that  I  am  now  here  to  tell  it." 

"  Why,  noble  Athelstane,"  said  the  Black  Knight,  "  I 
myself  saw  you  struck  down  by  the  fierce  Templar 
towards  the  end  of  the  storm  at  Torquilstone,  and,  as  I 
thought,  and  Wamba  reported,  your  skull  was  cloven 
through  the  teeth." 

"  You  thought  amiss,  Sir  Knight,"  said  Athelstane, 
"  and  Wamba  lied.  My  teeth  are  in  good  order,  and  that 
my  supper  shall  presently  find.  No  thanks  to  the  Tem- 
plar though,  whose  sword  turned  in  his  hand,  so  that  the 
blade  struck  me  flatlings,  being  averted  by  the  handle  of 
the  good  mace  with  which  I  warded  the  blow;  had  my 
steel-cap  been  on,  I  had  not  valued  it  a  rush,  and  had 
dealt  him  such  a  counterbuff  as  would  have  spoilt  his 
retreat.  But  as  it  was,  down  I  went,  stunned,  indeed, 
but  un wounded.  Others,  of  both  sides,  were  beaten  down 
and  slaughtered  above  me,  so  that  I  never  recovered  my 
senses  until  I  found  myself  in  a  coffin  —  an  open  one,  by 
good  luck  !  —  placed  before  the  altar  of  the  church  of  St. 
Edmund's.  I  sneezed  repeatedly  —  groaned  —  awakened, 
and  would  have  arisen,  -when  the  Sacristan  and  Abbot, 
full  of  terror,  came  running  at  the  noise,  surprised,  doubt- 
less, and  no  way  pleased,  to  find  the  man  alive  whose 
heirs  they  had  proposed  themselves  to  be.  I  asked  for 
wine  —  they  gave  me  some,  but  it  must  have  been  highly 
medicated,  for  I  slept  yet  more  deeply  than  before,  and 
wakened  not  for  many  hours.  I  found  my  arms  swathed 
down,  my  feet  tied  so  fast  that  mine  ankles  ache  at 
the  very  remembrance;  the  place  was  utterly  dark  —  the 
oubliette,  as  I  suppose,  of  their  accursed  convent,  and 
from  the  close,  stifled,  damp  smell  I  conceive  it  is  also 
used  for  a  place  of  sepulture.  I  had  strange  thoughts 
of  what  had  befallen  me,   when  the   door  of  my  dun- 


IVANHOE.  469 

geon  creaked,  and  two  villain  monks  entered.  They 
would  have  persuaded  me  I  was  in  purgatory,  but  I  knew 
too  well  the  pursy,  short-breathed  voice  of  the  Father 
Abbot.  —  St.  Jeremy !  how  different  from  that  tone  with 
which  he  used  to  ask  me  for  another  slice  of  the  haunch !  — 
the  dog  has  feasted  with  me  from  Christmas  to  Twelfth 
Night." 

"Have  patience,  noble  Athelstane,"  said  the  King, 
"take  breath — tell  your  story  at  leisure  ;  beshrew  me  but 
such  a  tale  is  as  well  worth  listening  to  as  a  romance." 

"Ay,  but,  by  the  rood  of  Bromholme,  there  was  no 
romance  in  the  matter!"  said  Athelstane.  "A  barley 
loaf  and  a  pitcher  of  water  —  that  they  gave  me,  the  nig- 
gardly traitors,  whom  my  father,  and  I  myself,  had  en- 
riched, when  their  best  resources  were  the  flitches  of 
bacon  and  measures  of  corn  out  of  which  they  wheedled 
poor  serfs  and  bondsmen,  in  exchange  for  their  prayers. 
The  nest  of  foul,  ungrateful  vipers  —  barley  bread  and 
ditch  water  to  such  a  patron  as  I  had  been  !  I  will  smoke 
them  out  of  their  nest,  though  I  be  excommunicated ! " 

"  But,  in  the  name  of  Our  Lady,  noble  Athelstane," 
said  Cedric,  grasping  the  hand  of  his  friend,  "  how  didst 
thou  escape  this  imminent  danger  ?  did  their  hearts 
relent  ?  " 

"Did  their  hearts  relent!"  echoed  Athelstane.  "Do 
rocks  melt  with  the  sun  ?  I  should  have  been  there  still, 
had  not  some  stir  in  the  convent,  which  I  find  was  their 
procession  hitherward  to  eat  my  funeral  feast,  when  they 
well  knew  how  and  where  I  had  been  buried  alive,  sum- 
moned the  swarm  out  of  their  hive.  I  heard  them  dron- 
ing out  their  death-psalms,  little  judging  they  were  sung 
in  respect  for  my  soul  by  those  who  were  thus  famishing 
my  body.  They  went,  however,  and  I  waited  long  for 
food ;  no  wonder  —  the  gouty  Sacristan  was  even  too  busy 
with  his  own  provender  to  mind  mine.  At  length  down 
he  came,  with  an  unstable  step  and  a  strong  flavour  of 
wine  and  spices  about  his  person.  Good  cheer  had  opened 
his  heart,  for  he  left  me  a  nook  of  pasty  and  a  flask  of 
wrine  instead  of  my  former  fare.  I  ate,  drank,  and  was 
invigorated  j  when,  to  add  to  my  good  luck,  the  Sacristan, 


470  IVANHOE. 

too  totty  to  discharge  his  duty  of  turnkey  fitly)  locked 
the  door  beside  the  staple,  so  that  it  fell  ajar.  The  light, 
the  food,  the  wine  set  my  invention  to  work.  The  staple 
to  which  my  chains  were  fixed  was  more  rusted  than  I  or 
the  villain  Abbot  had  supposed.  Even  iron  could  not  re- 
main without  consuming  in  the  damps  of  that  infernal 
dungeon." 

"  Take  breath,  noble  Athelstane,"  said  Eichard,  "  and 
partake  of  some  refreshment,  ere  you  proceed  with  a  tale 
so  dreadful." 

"  Partake  ! "  quoth  Athelstane.  "  I  have  been  partak- 
ing five  times  to-day  ;  and  yet  a  morsel  of  that  savoury 
ham  were  not  altogether  foreign  to  the  matter  ;  and  I 
pray  you,  fair  sir,  to  do  me  reason  in  a  cup  of  wine." 

The  guests,  though  still  agape  with  astonishment, 
pledged  their  resuscitated  landlord,  who  thus  proceeded 
in  his  story.  He  had  indeed  now  many  more  auditors 
than  those  to  whom  it  was  commenced,  for  Edith,  having 
given  certain  necessary  orders  for  arranging  matters 
within  the  castle,  had  followed  the  dead-alive  up  to  the 
strangers'  apartment,  attended  by  as  many  of  the  guests, 
male  and  female,  as  could  squeeze  into  the  small  room, 
while  others,  crowding  the  staircase,  caught  up  an  erro- 
neous edition  of  the  story,  and  transmitted  it  still  more 
inaccurately  to  those  beneath,  who  again  sent  it  forth  to 
the  vulgar  without,  in  a  fashion  totally  irreconcilable  to 
the  real  fact.  Althelstane,  however,  went  on  as  follows 
with  the  history  of  his  escape  : 

"Finding  myself  freed  from  the  staple,  I  dragged 
myself  upstairs  as  well  as  a  man  loaded  with  shackles, 
and  emaciated  with  fasting,  might ;  and  after  much  grop- 
ing about,  I  was  at  length  directed,  by  the  sound  of  a 
jolly  roundelay,  to  the  apartment  where  the  worthy  Sac- 
ristan, an  it  please  ye,  was  holding  a  devil's  mass  with 
a  huge  beetle-browed,  broad-shouldered  brother  of  the 
grey-frock  and  cowl,  who  looked  much  more  like  a  thief 
than  a  clergyman.  I  burst  in  upon  them,  and  the  fashion 
of  my  grave-clothes,  as  well  as  the  clanking  of  my  chains 
made  me  more  resemble  an  inhabitant  of  the  other  world 
than  of  this.     Both  stood  aghast  j  but  when  I  knocked 


IVANHOE.  471 

down  the  Sacristan  with  my  fist,  the  other  fellow,  his  pot- 
companion,  fetched  a  blow  at  me  with  a  huge  quarter- 
staff." 

"  This  must  be  our  Friar  Tuck,  for  a  count's  ransom," 
said  Richard,  looking  at  Ivanhoe. 

"  He  may  be  the  devil,  an  he  will,"  said  Athelstane. 
" Fortunately,  he  missed  the  aim;  and  on  my  approaching 
to  grapple  with  him,  took  to  his  heels  and  ran  for  it.  I 
failed  not  to  set  my  own  heels  at  liberty  by  means  of  the 
fetter-key,  which  hung  amongst  others  at  the  sexton's 
belt ;  and  I  had  thoughts  of  beating  out  the  knave's 
brains  with  the  bunch  of  keys,  but  gratitude  for  the  nook 
of  pasty  and  the  flask  of  wine  which  the  rascal  had  im- 
parted to  my  captivity  came  over  my  heart ;  so,  with  a 
brace  of  hearty  kicks,  I  left  him  on  the  floor,  pouched 
some  baked  meat  and  a  leathern  bottle  of  wine,  with 
which  the  two  venerable  brethren  had  been  regaling,  went 
to  the  stable  and  found  in  a  private  stall  mine  own  best 
palfrey,  which,  doubtless,  had  been  set  apart  for  the  holy 
Father  Abbot's  particular  use.  Hither  I  came  with  all 
the  speed  the  beast  could  compass  —  man  and  mother's 
son  flying  before  me  wherever  I  came,  taking  me  for  a 
spectre,  the  more  especially  as,  to  prevent  my  being 
recognised,  I  drew  the  corpse-hood  over  my  face.  I  had 
not  gained  admittance  into  my  own  castle,  had  I  not 
been  supposed  to  be  the  attendant  of  a  juggler  who  is 
making  the  people  in  the  castle-yard  very  merry,  consid- 
ering they  are  assembled  to  celebrate  their  lord's  funeral. 
I  say  the  sewer  thought  I  was  dressed  to  bear  a  part  in 
the  tregetour's  mummery,  and  so  I  got  admission,  and  I 
did  but  disclose  myself  to  my  mother,  and  eat  a  hasty 
morsel,  ere  I  came  in  quest  of  you,  my  noble  friend." 

"  And  you  have  found  me,"  said  Cedric,  "  ready  to  re- 
sume our  brave  projects  of  honour  and  liberty.  I  tell 
thee,  never  will  dawn  a  morrow  so  auspic'ous  as  the  next, 
for  the  deliverance  of  the  noble  Saxon  race." 

"Talk  not  to  me  of  delivering  any  one,"  said  Athel- 
stane ;  "  it  is  well  I  am  delivered  myself.  I  am  more  intent 
on  punishing  that  villain  Abbot.  He  shall  hang  on  the 
top  of  this  Castle  of  Coningsburgh,  in  his  cope  and  stole ; 


472  IVANHOE. 

and  if  the  stairs  be  too  strait  to  admit  his  fat  carcass,  I 
will  have  him  craned  up  from  without." 

"  But,  my  son,"  said  Edith,  "  consider  his  sacred  office." 

"Consider  my  three  days'  fast,"  replied  Athelstane; 
"I  will  have  their  blood  every  one  of  them.  Front-de- 
Boeuf  was  burnt  alive  for  a  less  matter,  for  he  kept  a  good 
table  for  his  prisoners,  only  put  too  much  garlic  in  his 
last  dish  of  pottage.  But  these  hypocritical,  ungrateful 
slaves,  so  often  the  self-invited  flatterers  at  my  board,  who 
gave  me  neither  pottage  nor  garlic,  more  or  less  —  they 
die,  by  the  soul  of  Hengist !  " 

"  But  the  Pope,  my  noble  friend,"  said  Cedric 

"But  the  devil,  my  noble  friend,"  answered  Athelstane ; 
"they  die,  and  no  more  of  them.  Were  they  the  best 
monks  upon  earth,  the  world  would  go  on  without  them." 

"  For  shame,  noble  Athelstane,"  said  Cedric ;  "  forget 
such  wretches  in  the  career  of  glory  which  lies  open 
before  thee.  Tell  this  Norman  prince,  Richard  of  Anjou, 
that,  lion-hearted  as  he  is,  he  shall  not  hold  undisputed 
the  throne  of  Alfred,  while  a  male  descendant  of  the 
Holy  Confessor  lives  to  dispute  it." 

"How!"  said  Athelstane,  "is  this  the  noble  King 
Richard  ?  " 

"  It  is  Richard  Plantagenet  himself,"  said  Cedric ;  "yet 
I  need  not  remind  thee  that,  coming  hither  a  guest  of 
free-will,  he  may  neither  be  injured  nor  detained  prisoner 
—  thou  well  knowest  thy  duty  to  him  as  his  host." 

"  Ay,  by  my  faith  !  "  said  Athelstane ;  "  and  my  duty 
as  a  subject  besides,  for  I  here  tender  him  my  allegiance, 
heart  and  hand." 

"  My  son,"  said  Edith,  "  think  on  thy  royal  rights  ! " 

"  Think  on  the  freedom  of  England,  degenerate  prince ! " 
said  Cedric. 

"  Mother  and  friend,"  said  Athelstane,  "  a  truce  to  your 
upbraidings  !  Bread  and  water  and  a  dungeon  are  marvel- 
lous mortifiers  of  ambition,  and  I  rise  from  the  tomb  a 
wiser  man  than  I  descended  into  it.  One  half  of  those 
vain  follies  were  puffed  into  mine  ear  by  that  perfidious 
Abbot  Wolfram,  and  you  may  now  judge  if  he  is  a  counsel- 
or to  be  trusted.    Since  these  plots  were  set  in  agitation,  I 


IVANIIOE.  473 

have  had  nothing  but  hurried  journeys,  indigestions,  blows 
and  bruises,  imprisonments,  and  starvation ;  besides  that 
they  can  only  end  in  the  murder  of  some  thousands  of 
quiet  folk.  I  tell  you,  I  will  be  king  in  my  own  domains, 
and  nowhere  else ;  and  my  first  act  of  dominion  shall  be 
to  hang  the  Abbot." 

"  And  my  ward  Rowena,"  said  Cedric  —  "I  trust  you 
intend  not  to  desert  her  ?  " 

"  Father  Cedric,"  said  Athelstane,  "  be  reasonable.  The 
Lady  Rowena  cares  not  for  me ;  she  loves  the  little  finger 
of  my  kinsman  Wilfred's  glove  better  than  my  whole  per- 
son. There  she  stands  to  avouch  it.  —  Nay,  blush  not, 
kinswoman ;  there  is  no  shame  in  loving  a  courtly  knight 
better  than  a  country  franklin  ;  and  do  not  laugh  neither, 
Ho wena,  for  grave-clothes  and  a  thin  visage  are,  God  knows, 
no  matter  of  merriment.  — Nay,  an  thou  wilt  needs  laugh, 
I  will  find  thee  a  better  jest.  Give  me  thy  hand,  or 
rather  lend  it  me,  for  I  but  ask  it  in  the  way  of  friend- 
ship.    Here,  cousin  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe,  in  thy  favour  I 

renounce  and  abjure Hey!  by  St.  Dunstan,  our  cousin 

Wilfred  hath  vanished !  Yet,  unless  my  eyes  are  still 
dazzled  with  the  fasting  I  ha/ve  undergone,  I  saw  him 
stand  there  but  even  now." 

All  now  looked  around  and  inquired  for  Ivanhoe ;  but 
he  had  vanished.  It  was  at  length  discovered  that  a  Jew 
had  been  to  seek  him ;  and  that,  after  very  brief  confer- 
ence, he  had  called  for  Gurth  and  his  armour,  and  had 
left  the  castle. 

"Fair  cousin,"  said  Athelstane  to  Rowena,  "could  I 
think  that  this  sudden  disappearance  of  Ivanhoe  was 
occasioned  by  other  than  the  weightiest  reason,  I  would 
myself  resume " 

But  he  had  no  sooner  let  go  her  hand,  on  first  observ- 
ing that  Ivanhoe  had  disappeared,  than  Rowena,  who  had 
found  her  situation  extremely  embarrassing,  had  taken 
the  first  opportunity  to  escape  from  the  apartment. 

"  Certainly,"  quoth  Athelstane,  "  women  are  the  least 
to  be  trusted  of  all  animals,  monks  and  abbots  excepted. 
I  am  an  infidel,  if  I  expected  not  thanks  from  her,  and 
perhaps  a  kiss  to  boot     These  cursed  grave-clothes  have 


474  IVANHOE. 

surely  a  spell  on  them,  every  one  flies  from  me.  —  To 
you  I  turn,  noble  King  Richard,  with  the  vows  of  alle- 
giance, which,  as  a  liege  subject " 

But  King  Richard  was  gone  also,  and  no  one  knew 
whither.  At  length  it  was  learned  that  he  had  hastened 
to  the  court-yard,  summoned  to  his  presence  the  Jew  who 
had  spoken  with  Ivanhoe,  and,  after  a  moment's  speech 
with  him,  had  called  vehemently  to  horse,  thrown  him- 
self upon  a  steed,  compelled  the  Jew  to  mount  another, 
and  set  off  at  a  rate  which,  according  to  Wamba,  rendered 
the  old  Jew's  neck  not  worth  a  penny's  purchase. 

"  By  my  halidome ! "  said  Athelstane,  "  it  is  certain 
that  Zernebock  hath  possessed  himself  of  my*  castle  in 
my  absence.  I  return  in  my  grave-clothes,  a  pledge  re- 
stored from  the  very  sepulchre,  and  every  one  I  speak  to 
vanishes  as  soon  as  they  hear  my  voice !  But  it  skills 
not  talking  of  it.  Come,  my  friends,  such  of  you  as  are 
left,  follow  me  to  the  banquet-hall,  lest  any  more  of  us 
disappear.  It  is,  I  trust,  as  yet  tolerably  furnished,  as 
becomes  the  obsequies  of  an  ancient  Saxon  noble;  and 
should  we  tarry  any  longer,  who  knows  but  the  devil 
may  fly  off  with  the  supper  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

Be  Mowbray's  sins  so  heavy  in  his  bosom, 

That  they  may  break  his  foaming  courser's  back, 

And  throw  the  rider  headlong  in  the  lists, 

A  caitiff  recreant !  Bichard  II 

Our  scene  now  returns  to  the  exterior  of  the  Castle,  or 
Preceptory,  of  Templestowe,  about  the  hour  when  the 
bloody  die  was  to  be  cast  for  the  life  or  death  of  Rebecca. 
It  was  a  scene  of  bustle  and  life,  as  if  the  whole  vicinity 
had  poured  forth  its  inhabitants  to  a  village  wake  or 
rural  feast.  But  the  earnest  desire  to  look  on  blood  and 
death  is  not  peculiar  to  those  dark  ages ;  though,  in  the 
gladiatorial  exercise  of  single  combat  and  general  tourney, 
they  were  habituated  to  the  bloody  spectacle  of  brave 


IVANHOE.  475 

men  falling  by  each  other's  hands.  Even  in  our  own 
days,  when  morals  are  better  understood,  an  execution,  a 
bruising-match,  a  riot,  or  a  meeting  of  radical  reformers, 
collects,  at  considerable  hazard  to  themselves,  immense 
crowds  of  spectators,  otherwise  little  interested,  except 
to  see  how  matters  are  to  be  conducted,  or  whether  the 
heroes  of  the  day  are,  in  the  heroic  language  of  insurgent 
tailors,  flints  or  dunghills. 

The  eyes,  therefore,  of  a  very  considerable  multitude 
were  bent  on  the  gate  of  the  Preceptory  of  Templestowe, 
with  the  purpose  of  witnessing  the  procession ;  while  still 
greater  numbers  had  already  surrounded  the  tiltyard 
belonging  to  that  establishment.  This  inclosure  was 
formed  on  a  piece  of  level  ground  adjoining  to  the  Pre- 
ceptory, which  had  been  levelled  with  care,  for  the  exer- 
cise of  military  and  chivalrous  sports.  It  occupied  the 
brow  of  a  soft  and  gentle  eminence,  was  carefully  pali- 
saded around,  and,  as  the  Templars  willingly  invited 
spectators  to  be  witnesses  of  their  skill  in  feats  of 
chivalry,  was  amply  supplied  with  galleries  and  benches 
for  their  use. 

On  the  present  occasion,  a  throne  was  erected  for  the 
Grand  Master  at  the  east  end,  surrounded  with  seats  of 
distinction  for  the  Preceptors  and  Knights  of  the  Order. 
Over  these  floated  the  sacred  standard,  called  Le  Beau- 
seant,  which  was  the  ensign,  as  its  name  was  the  battle- 
cry,  of  the  Templars. 

At  the  opposite  end  of  the  lists  was  a  pile  of  faggots, 
so  arranged  around  a  stake,  deeply  fixed  in  the  ground, 
as  to  leave  a  space  for  the  victim  whom  they  were  des- 
tined to  consume  to  enter  within  the  fatal  circle,  in  order 
to  be  chained  to  the  stake  by  the  fetters  which  hung 
ready  for  that  purpose.  Beside  this  deadly  apparatus 
stood  four  black  slaves,  whose  colour  and  African  fea- 
tures, then  so  little  known  in  England,  appalled  the 
multitude,  who  gazed  on  them  as  on  demons  employed 
about  their  own  diabolical  exercises.  These  men  stirred 
not,  excepting  now  and  then,  under  the  direction  of  one 
who  seemed  their  chief,  to  shift  and  replace  the  ready 
fuel.     They  looked  not  on  the  multitude.     In  fact,  they 


476  IVANHOE. 

seemed  insensible  of  their  presence,  and  of  everything 
save  the  discharge  of  their  own  horrible  duty.  And 
when,  in  speech  with  each  other,  they  expanded  their 
blubber  lips,  and  showed  their  white  fangs,  as  if  they 
grinned  at  the  thoughts  of  the  expected  tragedy,  the 
startled  commons  could  scarcely  help  believing  that  they 
were  actually  the  familiar  spirits  with  whom  the  witch 
had  communed,  and  who,  her  time  being  out,  stood  ready 
to  assist  in  her  dreadful  punishment.  They  whispered 
to  each  other,  and  communicated  all  the  feats  which 
Satan  had  performed  during  that  busy  and  unhappy 
period,  not  failing,  of  course,  to  give  the  devil  rather 
more  than  his  due. 

"  Have  you  not  heard,  father  Dennet,"  quoth  one  boor 
to  another  advanced  in  years,  "  that  the  devil  has  carried 
away  bodily  the  great  Saxon  thane  Athelstane  of  Con- 
ingsburgh  ?  " 

"  Ay,  but  he  brought  him  back,  though,  by  the  blessing 
of  God  and  St.  Dunstan." 

"  How's  that  ?  "  said  a  brisk  young  fellow,  dressed  in 
a  green  cassock  embroidered  with  gold,  and  having  at 
his  heels  a  stout  lad  bearing  a  harp  upon  his  back,  which 
betrayed  his  vocation.  The  Minstrel  seemed  of  no  vulgar 
rank ;  for,  besides  the  splendour  of  his  gaily  broidered 
doublet,  he  wore  round  his  neck  a  silver  chain,  by  which 
hung  the  wrest  or  key,  with  which  he  tuned  his  harp. 
On  his  right  arm  was  a  silver  plate,  which,  instead  of 
bearing,  as  usual,  the  cognizance  or  badge  of  the  baron 
to  whose  family  he  belonged,  had  barely  the  word  Sher- 
wood engraved  upon  it.  "  How  mean  you  by  that  ?  " 
said  the  gay  Minstrel,  mingling  in  the  conversation  of 
the  peasants;  "I  came  to  seek  one  subject  for  my 
rhyme,  and,  by'r  Lady,  I  were  glad  to  find  two." 

"  It  was  well  avouched,"  said  the  elder  peasant,  "  that 
after  Athelstane  of  Coningsburgh  had  been  dead  four 
weeks " 

"  That  is  impossible,"  said  the  Minstrel ;  "  I  saw  him 
in  life  at  the  Passage  of  Arms  at  Ashby-de-la-Zouche." 

"  Dead,  however,  he  was,  or  else  translated,"  said  the 
younger  peasant  j  "  for  I  heard  the  monks  of  St.  Edmund's 


1VANH0E.  477 

singing  the  death's  hymn  for  him ;  and,  moreover,  there 
was  a  rich  death-meal  and  dole  at  the  Castle  of  Conings- 
burgh,  as  right  was ;  and  thither  had  I  gone,  but  for 
Mabel  Parkins,  who " 

"  Ay,  dead  was  Athelstane,"  said  the  old  man,  shaking 
his  head,  "  and  the  more  pity  it  was,  for  the  old  Saxon 
blood " 

"  But,  your  story,  my  masters  —  your  story,"  said  the 
Minstrel,  somewhat  impatiently. 

"  Ay,  ay  —  construe  us  the  story,"  said  a  burly  Friar, 
who  stood  beside  them,  leaning  on  a  pole  that  exhibited 
an  appearance  between  a  pilgrim's  staff  and  a  quarter- 
staff,  and  probably  acted  as  either  when  occasion  served 
—  "your  story,"  said  the  stalwart  churchman.  "Burn 
not  daylight  about  it ;  we  have  short  time  to  spare." 

"  An  please  your  reverence,"  said  Dennet,  "  a  drunken 
priest  came  to  visit  the  Sacristan  at  St.  Edmund's " 

"  It  does  not  please  my  reverence,"  answered  the  church- 
man, "  that  there  should  be  such  an  animal  as  a  drunken 
priest,  or,  if  there  were,  that  a  layman  should  so  speak 
him.  Be  mannerly,  my  friend,  and  conclude  the  holy 
man  only  wrapped  in  meditation,  which  makes  the  head 
dizzy  and  foot  unsteady,  as  if  the  stomach  were  filled 
with  new  wine  —  I  have  felt  it  myself." 

"  Well,  then,"  answered  father  Dennet,  "  a  holy  brother 
came  to  visit  the  Sacristan  at  St.  Edmund's  —  a  sort  of 
hedge-priest  is  the  visitor,  and  kills  half  the  deer  that 
are  stolen  in  the  forest,  who  loves  the  tinkling  of  a  pint- 
pot  better  than  the  sacring-bell,  and  deems  a  flitch  of 
bacon  worth  ten  of  his  breviary ;  for  the  rest,  a  good 
fellow  and  a  merry,  who  will  flourish  a  quarter-staff, 
draw  a  bow,  and  dance  a  Cheshire  round  with  e'er  a  man 
in  Yorkshire." 

"  That  last  part  of  thy  speech,  Dennet,"  said  the  Min- 
strel, "  has  saved  thee  a  rib  or  twain." 

"  Tush,  man,  I  fear  him  not,"  said  Dennet ;  "  I  am 
somewhat  old  and  stiff,  but  when  I  fought  for  the  bell 
and  ram  at  Doncaster " 

"  But  the  story  —  the  story,  my  friend,"  again  said  the 
Minstrel. 


478  IVANHOE. 

"  Why,  the  tale  is  but  this  —  Athelstane  of  Conings- 
burgh  was  buried  at  St.  Edmund's." 

"  That's  a  lie,  and  a  loud  one,"  said  the  Friar,  "  for  I 
saw  him  borne  to  his  own  Castle  of  Coningsburgh." 

"  Nay,  then,  e'en  tell  the  story  yourself,  my  masters," 
said  Dennet,  turning  sulky  at  these  repeated  contradic- 
tions ;  and  it  was  with  some  difficulty  that  the  boor  could 
be  prevailed  on,  by  the  request  of  his  comrade  and  the 
Minstrel,  to  renew  his  tale.  "These  two  sober  friars," 
said  he  at  length,  "  since  this  reverend  man  will  needs 
have  them  such,  had  continued  drinking  good  ale,  and 
wine,  and  what  not,  for  the  best  part  of  a  summer's 
day,  when  they  were  aroused  by  a  deep  groan,  and  a 
clanking  of  chains,  and  the  figure  of  the  deceased 
Athelstane  entered  the  apartment,  saying,  '  Ye  evil 
shepherds ! '  " 

"  It  is  false,"  said  the  Friar,  hastily,  "  he  never  spoke 
a  word." 

"  So  ho !  Friar  Tuck,"  said  the  Minstrel,  drawing  him 
apart  from  the  rustics ;  "  we  have  started  a  new  hare,  I 
find." 

"  I  tell  thee,  Allan-a-Dale,"  said  the  hermit,  "  I  saw 
Athelstane  of  Coningsburgh  as  much  as  bodily  eyes  ever 
saw  a  living  man.  He  had  his  shroud  on,  and  all  about 
him  smelt  of  the  sepulchre  —  A  butt  of  sack  will  not 
wash  it  out  of  my  memory." 

"  Pshaw  ! "  answered  the  Minstrel ;  "  thou  dost  but 
jest  with  me  !  " 

"  Never  believe  me,"  said  the  Friar,  "  an  I  fetched  not 
a  knock  at  him  with  my  quarter-staff  that  would  have 
felled  an  ox,  and  it  glided  through  his  body  as  it  might 
through  a  pillar  of  smoke  !  " 

"  By  St.  Hubert,"  said  the  Minstrel,  "  but  it  is  a  won- 
drous tale,  and  fit  to  be  put  in  metre  to  the  ancient  tune, 
'  Sorrow  came  to  the  Old  Friar.' " 

"  Laugh,  if  ye  list,"  said  Friar  Tuck ;  "  but  an  ye 
catch  me  singing  on  such  a  theme  may  the  next  ghost 
or  devil  carry  me  off  with  him  headlong!  No,  no  —  I 
instantly  formed  the  purpose  of  assisting  at  some  good 
work,  such  as  the  burning  of  a  witch,  a  judicial  combat, 


IVANHOE.  479 

or  the  like  matter  of  godly  service,  and  therefore  am  I 
here." 

As  they  thus  conversed,  the  heavy  bell  of  the  church 
of  St.  Michael  of  Teinplestowe,  a  venerable  building,  sit- 
uated in  a  hamlet  at  some  distance  from  the  Preceptory, 
broke  short  their  argument.  One  by  one  the  sullen 
sounds  fell  successively  on  the  ear,  leaving  but  sufficient 
space  for  each  to  die  away  in  distant  echo,  ere  the  air 
was  again  filled  by  repetition  of  the  iron  knell.  These 
sounds,  the  signal  of  the  approaching  ceremony,  chilled 
with  awe  the  hearts  of  the  assembled  multitude,  whose 
eyes  were  now  turned  to  the  Preceptory,  expecting  the 
approach  of  the  Grand  Master,  the  champion,  and  the 
criminal. 

At  length  the  drawbridge  fell,  the  gates  opened,  and  a 
knight,  bearing  the  great  standard  of  the  Order,  sallied 
from  the  castle,  preceded  by  six  trumpets,  and  followed 
by  the  Knights  Preceptors,  two  and  two,  the  Grand  Mas- 
ter coming  last,  mounted  on  a  stately  horse,  whose  furni- 
ture was  of  the  simplest  kind.  Behind  him  came  Brian 
de  Bois-Guilbert,  armed  cap-a-pie  in  bright  armour,  but 
without  his  lance,  shield,  and  sword,  which  were  borne 
by  his  two  esquires  behind  him.  His  face,  though  partly 
hidden  by  a  long  plume  which  floated  down  from  his 
barret-cap,  bore  a  strong  and  mingled  expression  of  pas- 
sion, in  which  pride  seemed  to  contend  with  irresolution. 
He  looked  ghastly  pale,  as  if  he  had  not  slept  for  several 
nights,  yet  reined  his  pawing  war-horse  with  the  habitual 
ease  and  grace  proper  to  the  best  lance  of  the  Order  of 
the  Temple.  His  general  appearance  was  grand  and 
commanding:  but,  looking  at  him  with  attention,  men 
read  that  in  his  dark  features  from  which  they  willingly 
withdrew  their  eyes. 

On  either  side  rode  Conrade  of  Mont-Fitchet  and  Albert 
de  Malvoisin,  who  acted  as  godfathers  to  the  champion. 
They  were  in  their  robes  of  peace,  the  white  dress  of  the 
Order.  Behind  them  followed  other  companions  of  the 
Temple,  with  a  long  train  of  esquires  and  pages  clad  in 
black,  aspirants  to  the  honour  of  being  one  day  knights 
of  the  Order.     After  these  neophytes  came  a  guard  of 


480  IVANHOE. 

warders  on  foot,  in  the  same  sable  livery,  amidst  whose 
partisans  might  be  seen  the  pale  form  of  the  accused, 
moving  with  a  slow  but  undismayed  step  towards  the 
scene  of  her  fate.  She  was  stript  of  all  her  ornaments, 
lest  perchance  there  should  be  among  them  some  of  those 
amulets  which  Satan  was  supposed  to  bestow  upon  his 
victims,  to  deprive  them  of  the  power  of  confession  even 
when  under  the  torture.  A  coarse  white  dress,  of  the 
simplest  form,  had  been  substituted  for  her  Oriental  gar- 
ments ;  yet  there  was  such  an  exquisite  mixture  of  cour- 
age and  resignation  in  her  look  that  even  in  this  garb, 
and  with  no  other  ornament  than  her  long  black  tresses, 
each  eye  wept  that  looked  upon  her,  and  the  most  hard- 
ened bigot  regretted  the  fate  that  had  converted  a  crea- 
ture so  goodly  into  a  vessel  of  wrath,  and  a  waged  slave 
of  the  devil. 

A  crowd  of  inferior  personages  belonging  to  the  Pre- 
ceptory  followed  the  victim,  all  moving  with  the  utmost 
order,  with  arms  folded  and  looks  bent  upon  the  ground. 

This  slow  procession  moved  up  the  gentle  eminence, 
on  the  summit  of  which  was  the  tiltyard,  and,  entering 
the  lists,  marched  once  around  them  from  right  to  left, 
and  when  they  had  completed  the  circle,  made  a  halt. 
There  was  then  a  momentary  bustle,  while  the  Grand 
Master  and  all  his  attendants,  excepting  the  champion 
and  his  godfathers,  dismounted  from  their  horses,  which 
were  immediately  removed  out  of  the  lists  by  the  esquires, 
who  were  in  attendance  for  that  purpose. 

The  unfortunate  Rebecca  was  conducted  to  the  black 
chair  placed  near  the  pile.  On  her  first  glance  at  the 
terrible  spot  where  preparations  were  making  for  a  death 
alike  dismaying  to  the  mind,  and  painful  to  the  body,  she 
was  observed  to  shudder  and  shut  her  eyes,  praying  inter- 
nally, doubtless,  for  her  lips  moved,  though  no  speech 
was  heard.  In  the  space  of  a  minute  she  opened  her  eyes, 
looked  fixedly  on  the  pile  as  if  to  familiarise  her  mind 
with  the  object,  and  then  slowly  and  naturally  turned 
away  her  head. 

Meanwhile,  the  Grand  Master  had  assumed  his  seat; 
and  when  the  chivalry  of  his  Order  was  placed  around 


IVANHOE.  481 

and  behind  him,  each  in  his  due  rank,  a  loud  and  long 
nourish  of  the  trumpets  announced  that  the  court  were 
seated  for  judgment.  Malvoisin  then,  acting  as  godfather 
of  the  champion,  stepped  forward,  and  laid  the  glove  of 
the  Jewess,  which  was  the  pledge  of  battle,  at  the  feet 
of  the  Grand  Master. 

"Valorous  lord  and  reverend  father,"  said  he,  "here 
standeth  the  good  knight,  Brian  de  Bois-Guilbert,  Knight 
Preceptor  of  the  Order  of  the  Temple,  who,  by  accepting 
the  pledge  of  battle  which  I  now  lay  at  your  reverence's 
feet,  hath  become  bound  to  do  his  devoir  in  combat  this 
day,  to  maintain  that  this  Jewish  maiden,  by  name  Re- 
becca, hath  justly  deserved  the  doom  passed  upon  her  in 
a  chapter  of  this  most  Holy  Order  of  the  Temple  of  Zion, 
condemning  her  to  die  as  a  sorceress  —  here,  I  say,  he 
standeth,  such  battle  to  do,  knightly  and  honourable,  if 
such  be  your  noble  and  sanctified  pleasure." 

"  Hath  he  made  oath,"  said  the  Grand  Master,  "  that 
his  quarrel  is  just  and  honourable  ?  Bring  forward  the 
crucifix  and  the  Te  igitur." 

"  Sir  and  most  reverend  father,"  answered  Malvoisin, 
readily,  "  our  brother  here  present  hath  already  sworn  to 
the  truth  of  his  accusation  in  the  hand  of  the  good  knight 
Conrade  de  Mont-Fitchet ;  and  otherwise  he  ought  not  to 
be  sworn,  seeing  that  his  adversary  is  an  unbeliever,  and 
may  take  no  oath." 

This  explanation  was  satisfactory,  to  Albert's  great 
joy ;  for  the  wily  knight  had  foreseen  the  great  difficulty, 
or  rather  impossibility,  of  prevailing  upon  Brian  de  Bois- 
Guilbert  to  take  such  an  oath  before  the  assembly,  and 
had  invented  this  excuse  to  escape  the  necessity  of  his 
doing  so. 

The  Grand  Master,  having  allowed  the  apology  of  Al- 
bert Malvoisin,  commanded  the  herald  to  stand  forth  and 
do  his  devoir.  The  trumpets  then  again  flourished,  and  a 
herald,  stepping  forward,  proclaimed  aloud :  "  Oyez,  oyez, 
oyez.  — Here  standeth  the  good  knight,  Sir  Brian  de  Bois- 
Guilbert,  ready  to  do  battle  with  any  knight  of  free  blood 
who  will  sustain  the  quarrel  allowed  and  allotted  to  the 
Jewess  Rebecca,  to  try  by  champion,  in  respect  of  law- 
2i 


482  IV AN  HOE. 

fill  essoine  of  her  own  body;  and  to  such  champion  the 
reverend  and  valorous  Grand  Master  here  present  allows 
a  fair  field,  and  equal  partition  of  sun  and  wind,  and 
whatever  else  appertains  to  a  fair  combat."  The  trum- 
pets again  sounded,  and  there  was  a  dead  pause  of  many 
minutes. 

"No  champion  appears  for  the  appellant,"  said  the 
Grand  Master.  "  Go,  herald,  and  ask  her  whether  she 
expects  any  one  to  do  battle  for  her  in  this  her  cause." 

The  herald  went  to  the  chair  in  which  Rebecca  was 
seated;  and  Bois-Guilbert,  suddenly  turning  his  horse's 
head  toward  that  end  of  the  lists,  in  spite  of  hints  on 
either  side  from  Malvoisin  and  Mont-Fitchet,  was  by  the 
side  of  Rebecca's  chair  as  soon  as  the  herald. 

"  Is  this  regular,  and  according  to  the  law  of  combat  ?  " 
said  Malvoisin,  looking  to  the  Grand  Master. 

"Albert  de  Malvoisin,  it  is,"  answered  Beaumanoir; 
"  for  in  this  appeal  to  the  judgment  of  God  we  may  not 
prohibit  parties  from  having  that  communication  with 
each  other  which  may  best  tend  to  bring  forth"  the  truth 
of  the  quarrel." 

In  the  meantime,  the  herald  spoke  to  Rebecca  in  these 
terms  :  "  Damsel,  the  honourable  and  reverend  the  Grand 
Master  demands  of  thee,  if  thou  art  prepared  with  a 
champion  to  do  battle  this  day  in  thy  behalf,  or  if  thou 
dost  yield  thee  as  one  justly  condemned  to  a  deserved 
doom  ?  " 

"  Say  to  the  Grand  Master,"  replied  Rebecca,  "  that  I 
maintain  my  innocence,'  and  do  not  yield  me  as  justly 
condemned,  lest  I  become  guilty  of  mine  own  blood.  Say 
to  him,  that  I  challenge  such  delay  as  his  forms  will 
permit,  to  see  if  God,  whose  opportunity  is  in  man's 
extremity,  will  raise  me  up  a  deliverer ;  and  when  such 
uttermost  space  is  passed,  may  His  holy  will  be  done  ! " 

The  herald  retired  to  carry  this  answer  to  the  Grand 
Master. 

"  God  forbid,"  said  Lucas  Beaumanoir,  "  that  Jew  or 
Pagan  should  impeach  us  of  injustice !  Until  the  shad- 
ows be  cast  from  the  west  to  the  eastward,  will  we  wait 
to  see  if  a  champion  shall  appear  for  this  unfortunate 


IVANHOE.  483 

woman.     When  the  day  is  so  far  passed,  let  her  prepare 
for  death." 

The  herald  communicated  the  words  of  the  Grand 
Master  to  Rebecca,  who  bowed  her  head  submissively, 
folded  her  arms,  and,  looking  up  towards  heaven,  seemed 
to  expect  that  aid  from  above  which  she  could  scarce 
promise  herself  from  man.  During  this  awful  pause, 
the  voice  of  Bois-Guilbert  broke  upon  her  ear;  it  was 
but  a  whisper,  yet  it  startled  her  more  than  the  summons 
of  the  herald  had  appeared  to  do. 

"  Rebecca,"  said  the  Templar,  "  dost  thou  hear  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  portion  in  thee,  cruel,  hard-hearted  man," 
said  the  unfortunate  maiden. 

"Ay,  but  dost  thou  understand  my  words?"  said  the 
Templar;  "for  the  sound  of  my  voice  is  frightful  in 
mine  own  ears.  I  scarce  know  on  what  ground  we  stand, 
or  for  what  purpose  they  have  brought  us  hither.  This 
listed  space  —  that  chair  —  these  faggots  —  I  know  their 
purpose,  and  yet  it  appears  to  me  like  something  unreal  — 
the  fearful  picture  of  a  vision,  which  appals  my  sense 
with  hideous  fantasies,  but  convinces  not  my  reason." 

"  My  mind  and  senses  keep  touch  and  time,"  answered 
Rebecca,  "  and  tell  me  alike  that  these  faggots  are  des- 
tined to  consume  my  earthly  body,  and  open  a  painful 
but  a  brief  passage  to  a  better  world." 

"  Dreams,  Rebecca — dreams,"  answered  the  Templar — 
"idle  visions,  rejected  by  the  wisdom  of  your  own  wiser 
Sadducees.  Hear  me,  Rebecca,"  he  said,  proceeding  with 
animation ;  "  a  better  chance  hast  thou  for  life  and  liberty 
than  yonder  knaves  and  dotard  dream  of.  Mount  thee 
behind  me  on  my  steed  —  on  Zamor,  the  gallant  horse 
that  never  failed  his  rider.  I  won  him  in  single  fight 
from  the  Soldan  of  Trebizond.  Mount,  I  say,  behind  me ; 
in  one  short  hour  is  pursuit  and  inquiry  far  behind  —  a 
new  world  of  pleasure  opens  to  thee  —  to  me  a  new  career 
of  fame.  Let  them  speak  the  doom  which  I  despise,  and 
erase  the  name  of  Bois-Guilbert  from  their  list  of  monas- 
tic slaves !  I  will  wash  out  with  blood  whatever  blot 
they  may  dare  to  cast  on  my  scutcheon." 

"  Tempter,"  said  Rebecca,  "  begone  !     Not  in  this  last 


484  IVANHOE. 

extremity  canst  thou  move  me  one  hair's-Oreadth  from 
my  resting-place.  Surrounded  as  I  am  by  foes,  I  hold 
thee  as  my  worst  and  most  deadly  enemy ;  avoid  thee, 
in  the  name  of  God  !  " 

Albert  Malvoisin,  alarmed  and  impatient  at  the  dura- 
tion of  their  conference,  now  advanced  to  interrupt  it. 

"  Hath  the  maiden  acknowledged  her  guilt  ?  "  he  de- 
manded of  Bois-Guilbert;  "or  is  she  resolute  in  her 
denial  ?  " 

"  She  is  indeed  resolute"  said  Bois-Guilbert. 

"Then,"  said  Malvoisin,  "must  thou,  noble  brother, 
resume  thy  place  to  attend  the  issue.  The  shades  are 
changing  on  the  circle  of  the  dial.  —  Come,  brave  Bois- 
Guilbert  —  come,  thou  hope  of  our  Holy  Order,  and  soon 
to  be  its  head." 

As  he  spoke  in  this  soothing  tone,  he  laid  his  hand  on 
the  knight's  bridle,  as  if  to  lead  him  back  to  his  station. 

"  False  villain !  what  meanest  thou  by  thy  hand  on 
my  rein  ?  "  said  Sir  Brian,  angrily.  And  shaking  off  his 
companion's  grasp,  he  rode  back  to  the  upper  end  of  the 
lists. 

"  There  is  yet  spirit  in  him,"  said  Malvoisin  apart  to 
Mont-Fitchet,  "  were  it  well  directed ;  but,  like  the  Greek 
fire,  it  burns  whatever  approaches  it." 

The  judges  had  now  been  two  hours  in  the  li^ts,  await- 
ing in  vain  the  appearance  of  a  champion. 

"  And  reason  good,"  said  Friar  Tuck,  "  seeing  she  is  a 
Jewess ;  and  yet,  by  mine  Order,  it  is  hard  that  so  young 
and  beautiful  a  creature  should  perish  without  one  blow 
being  struck  in  her  behalf !  Were  she  ten  times  a  witch, 
provided  she  were  but  the  least  bit  of  a  Christian,  my 
quarter-staff  should  ring  noon  on  the  steel  cap  of  yonder 
fierce  Templar,  ere  he  carried  the  matter  off  thus." 

It  was,  however,  the  general  belief  that  no  one  could 
or  would  appear  for  a  Jewess  accused  of  sorcery ;  and 
the  knights,  instigated  by  Malvoisin,  whispered  to  each 
other  that  it  was  time  to  declare  the  pledge  of  Rebecca 
forfeited.  At  this  instant  a  knight,  urging  his  horse  to 
speed,  appeared  on  the  plain  advancing  towards  the  lists. 
A  hundred  voices  exclaimed,  "A  champion!  —  a  chain- 


IVAN  HOE.  485 

pion  !  "  And,  despite  the  prepossessions  and  prejudices 
of  the  multitude,  they  shouted  unanimously  as  the  knight 
rode  into  the  tiltyard.  The  second  glance,  however,  served 
to  destroy  the  hope  that  his  timely  arrival  had  excited. 
His  horse,  urged  for  many  miles  to  its  utmost  speed,  ap- 
peared to  reel  from  fatigue,  and  the  rider,  however  un- 
dauntedly he  presented  himself  in  the  lists,  either  from 
weakness,  weariness,  or  both,  seemed  scarce  able  to  sup- 
port himself  in  the  saddle. 

To  the  summons  of  the  herald,  who  demanded  his  rank, 
his  name,  and  purpose,  the  stranger  knight  answered 
readily  and  boldly :  "  I  am  a  good  knight  and  noble, 
come  hither  to  sustain  with  lance  and  sword  the  just  and 
lawful  quarrel  of  this  damsel,  Eebecca,  daughter  of  Isaac 
of  York ;  to  uphold  the  doom  pronounced  against  her  to 
be  false  and  truthless,  and  to  defy  Sir  Brian  de  Bois- 
Guilbert,  as  a  traitor,  murderer,  and  liar ;  as  I  will  prove 
in  this  field  with  my  body  against  his,  by  the  aid  of  God, 
of  Our  Lady,  and  of  Monseigneur  St.  George,  the  good 
knight.'' 

"  The  stranger  must  first  show,"  said  Malvoisin,  "  that 
he  is  good  knight,  and  of  honourable  lineage.  The  Tem- 
ple sendeth  not  forth  her  champions  against  nameless 
men." 

"My  name,"  said  the  knight,  raising  his  helmet,  "is 
better  known,  my  lineage  more  pure,  Malvoisin,  than 
thine  own.     I  am  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe." 

"I  will  not  fight  with  thee  at  present,"  said  the  Templar, 
in  a  changed  and  hollow  voice.  "  Get  thy  wounds  healed, 
purvey  thee  a  better  horse,  and  it  may  be  I  will  hold  it 
worth  my  while  to  scourge  out  of  thee  this  boyish  spirit 
of  bravado." 

"  Ha !  proud  Templar,"  said  Ivanhoe,  "  hast  thou  for- 
gotten that  twice  didst  thou  fall  before  this  lance  ?  Re- 
member the  lists  at  Acre  — remember  the  Passage  of  Arms 
at  Ashby  —  remember  thy  proud  vaunt  in  the  halls  of 
Rotherwood,  and  the  gage  of  your  gold  chain  against  my 
reliquary,  that  thou  wouldst  do  battle  with  Wilfred  of 
Ivanhoe,  and  recover  the  honour  thou  hadst  lost !  By 
that  reliquary,  and  the  holy  relic  it  contains,  I  will  pro- 


486  IV  AN  HOE. 

claim  thee,  Templar,  a  coward  in  every  court  in  Europe 
—  in  every  Preceptory  of  thine  Order  —  unless  thou  do 
battle  without  farther  delay." 

Bois-Guilbert  turned  his  countenance  irresolutely  to- 
wards Rebecca,  and  then  exclaimed,  looking  fiercely  at 
Ivanhoe :  "  Dog  of  a  Saxon !  take  thy  lance,  and  prepare 
for  the  death  thou  hast  drawn  upon  thee ! " 

"  Does  the  Grand  Master  allow  me  the  combat  ?  "  said 
Ivanhoe. 

"  I  may  not  deny  what  thou  hast  challenged,"  said  the 
Grand  Master,  "  provided  the  maiden  accepts  thee  as  her 
champion.  Yet  I  would  thou  wert  in  better  plight  to  do 
battle.  An  enemy  of  our  Order  hast  thou  ever  been,  yet 
would  I  have  thee  honourably  met  with." 

"  Thus  —  thus  as  I  am,  and  not  otherwise,"  said  Ivan- 
hoe; "it  is  the  judgment  of  God — to  his  keeping  I 
commend  myself.  Rebecca,"  said  he,  riding  up  to  the 
fatal  chair,  "  dost  thou  accept  of  me  for  thy  champion  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  she  said  —  "I  do,"  fluttered  by  an  emotion 
which  the  fear  of  death  had  been  unable  to  produce — "I 
do  accept  thee  as  the  champion  whom  Heaven  hath  sent 
me.  Yet,  no— no — thy  wounds  are  uncured  —  Meet  not 
that  proud  man  —  why  shouldst  thou  perish  also  ?  " 

But  Ivanhoe  was  already  at  his  post,  and  had  closed 
his  visor,  and  assumed  his  lance.  Bois-Guilbert  did  the 
same ;  and  his  esquire  remarked,  as  he  clasped  his  visor, 
that  his  face,  which  had,  notwithstanding  the  variety  of 
emotions  by  which  he  had  been  agitated,  continued  dur- 
ing the  whole  morning  of  an  ashy  paleness,  was  now  be- 
come suddenly  very  much  flushed. 

The  herald  then,  seeing  each  champion  in  his  place, 
uplifted  his  voice,  repeating  thrice :  "  Faitcs  vos  devoirs, 
preux  chevaliers!"  After  the  third  cry,  he  withdrew  to 
one  side  of  the  lists,  and  again  proclaimed  that  none,  on 
peril  of  instant  death,  should  dare  by  word,  cry,  or  action 
to  interfere  with  or  disturb  this  fair  field  of  combat. 
The  Grand  Master,  who  held  in  his  hand  the  gage  of 
battle,  Rebecca's  glove,  now  threw  it  into  the  lists,  and 
pronounced  the  fatal  signal  words,  Laissez  oiler. 

The  trumpets  sounded,  and  the  knights  charged  each 


'«^ .   «■- 


«»&5^"-;,toJ 


{jO  iVred ,  fc>lACtr»<4    his   -fr>oT^on  Jjia  /ar-tast 


IVANHOE.  487 

other  in  full  career.  The  wearied  horse  of  Ivanhoe,  and 
its  no  less  exhausted  rider,  went  down,  as  all  had  ex- 
pected, before  the  well-aimed  lance  and  vigorous  steed  of 
the  Templar.  This  issue  of  the  combat  all  had  foreseen ; 
but  although  the  spear  of  Ivanhoe  did  but,  in  comparison, 
touch  the  shield  of  Bois-Guilbert,  that  champion,  to  the 
astonishment  of  all  who  beheld  it,  reeled  in  his  saddle, 
lost  his  stirrups,  and  fell  in  the  lists. 

Ivanhoe,  extricating  himself  from  his  fallen  horse,  was 
soon  on  foot,  hastening  to  mend  his  fortune  with  his  sword ; 
but  his  antagonist  arose  not.  Wilfred,  placing  his  foot  on 
his  breast,  and  the  sword's  point  to  his  throat,  commanded 
him  to  yield  him,  or  die  on  the  spot.  Bois-Guilbert 
returned  no  answer. 

"  Slay  him  not,  Sir  Knight,"  cried  the  Grand  Master, 
"  unshriven  and  unabsolved  —  kill  not  body  and  soul ! 
We  allow  him  vanquished." 

He  descended  into  the  lists,  and  commanded  them  to 
unhelm  the  conquered  champion.  His  eyes  were  closed ; 
the  dark  red  flush  was  still  on  his  brow.  As  they  looked 
on  him  in  astonishment,  the  eyes  opened ;  but  they  were 
fixed  and  glazed.  The  flush  passed  from  his  brow,  and 
gave  way  to  the  pallid  hue  of  death.  Unscathed  by  the 
lance  of  his  enemy,  he  had  died  a  victim  to  the  violence 
of  his  own  contending  passions. 

"  This  is  indeed  the  judgment  of  God,"  said  the  Grand 
Master,  looking  upwards  — "  Fiat  voluntas  tua  I " 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

So  !  now  'tis  ended,  like  an  old  wife's  story. 

Webster. 

When  the  first  moments  of  surprise  were  over,  Wilfred 
of  Ivanhoe  demanded  of  the  Grand  Master,  as  judge  of 
the  field,  if  he  had  manfully  and  rightfully  done  his  duty 
in  the  combat. 

"  Manfully  and  rightfully  hath  it  been  done,"  said  the 
Grand  Master ;  "  I  pronounce  the  maiden  free  and  guilt- 


488  IVANHOE. 

less.  The  arms  and  the  body  of  the  deceased  knight  are 
at  the  will  of  the  victor." 

"I  will  not  despoil  him  of  his  weapons,"  said  the 
Knight  of  Ivanhoe,  "  nor  condemn  his  corpse  to  shame 
—  he  hath  fought  for  Christendom.  God's  arm,  no 
human  hand,  hath  this  day  struck  him  down.  But  let 
his  obsequies  be  private,  as  becomes  those  of  a  man  who 
died  in  an  unjust  quarrel.     And  for  the  maiden ': 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  clattering  of  horses'  feet, 
advancing  in  such  numbers,  and  so  rapidly,  as  to  shake 
the  ground  before  them;  and  the  Black  Knight  gal- 
loped into  the  lists.  He  was  followed  by  a  numerous 
band  of  men-at-arms,  and  several  knights  in  complete 
armour. 

"  I  am  too  late,"  he  said,  looking  around  him.  "  I  had 
doomed  Bois-Guilbert  for  mine  own  property.  —  Ivanhoe, 
was  this  well,  to  take  on  thee  such  a  venture,  and  thou 
scarce  able  to  keep  thy  saddle  ?  " 

"  Heaven,  my  Liege,"  answered  Ivanhoe,  "  hath  taken 
this  proud  man  for  its  victim.  He  was  not  to  be  honoured 
in  dying  as  your  will  had  designed," 

"  Peace  be  with  him,"  said  Eichard,  looking  steadfastly 
on  the  corpse,  "  if  it  may  be  so ;  he  was  a  gallant  knight, 
and  has  died  in  his  steel  harness  full  knightly.  But  we 
must  waste  no  time  —  Bohun,  do  thine  office  !  ' 

A  knight  stepped  forward  from  the  King's  attendants, 
and,  laying  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  Albert  de  Mal- 
voisin,  said,  "  I  arrest  thee  of  high  treason." 

The  Grand  Master  had  hitherto  stood  astonished  at 
the  appearance  of  so  many  warriors.     He  now  spoke. 

"  Who  dares  to  arrest  a  knight  of  the  Temple  of  Zion. 
within  the  girth  of  his  own  Preceptory,  and  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Grand  Master  ?  and  by  whose  authority  is 
this  bold  outrage  offered  ?  " 

"I  make  the  arrest."  replied  the  knight  —  "I,  Henry 
Bohun,  Earl  of  Essex,  Lord  High  Constable  of  England." 

"  And  he  arrests  Malvoisin,"  said  the  King,  raising  his 
visor,  "  by  the  order  of  Richard  Plantagenet,  here  pres- 
ent. Conrade  Mont-Fitchet,  it  is  well  for  thee  thou  art 
born  no  subject  of  mine.     But  for  thee,  Malvoisin,  thou 


IYANHOE.  489 

diest  with  thy  brother  Philip  ere  the  world  be  a  week 
older." 

"  I  will  resist  thy  doom,"  said  the  Grand  Master. 

"Proud  Templar,"  said  the  King,  "thou  canst  not  — 
look  up,  and  behold  the  royal  standard  of  England  floats 
over  thy  towers  instead  of  thy  Temple  banner  !  Be  wise, 
Beaumanoir,  and  make  no  bootless  opposition.  Thy  hand 
is  in  the  lion's  mouth." 

"  I  will  appeal  to  Rome  against  thee,"  said  the  Grand 
Master,  "  for  usurpation  on  the  immunities  and  privi- 
leges of  our  Order." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  the  King ;  "  but  for  thine  own  sake 
tax  me  not  with  usurpation  now.  Dissolve  thy  Chapter, 
and  depart  with  thy  followers  to  thy  next  Preceptory,  if 
thou  canst  find  one  which  has  not  been  made  the  scene 
of  treasonable  conspiracy  against  the  King  of  England. 
—  Or,  if  thou  wilt,  remain,  to  share  our  hospitality,  and 
behold  our  justice." 

"  To  be  a  guest  in  the  house  where  I  should  command  ? ': 
said  the  Templar  ;  "  never !  —  Chaplains,  raise  the  Psalm, 
'  Quare  fremuerunt  gentesV  Knights,  squires,  and  fol- 
lowers of  the  Holy  Temple,  prepare  to  follow  the  banner 
of  Beau-seant  I " 

The  Grand  Master  spoke  with  a  dignity  which  con- 
fronted even  that  of  England's  king  himself,  and  inspired 
courage  into  his  surprised  and  dismayed  followers.  They 
gathered  around  him  like  the  sheep  around  the  watch- 
dog, when  they  hear  the  baying  of  the  wolf.  But  they 
evinced  not  the  timidity  of  the  scared  flock ;  there  were 
dark  brows  of  defiance,  and  looks  which  menaced  the 
hostility  they  dared  not  to  proffer  in  words.  They  drew 
together  in  a  dark  line  of  spears,  from  which  the  white 
cloaks  of  the  knights  were  visible  among  the  dusky 
garments  of  their  retainers,  like  the  lighter-coloured 
edges  of  a  sable  cloud.  The  multitude,  who  had  raised 
a  clamorous  shout  of  reprobation,  paused  and  gazed  in 
silence  on  the  formidable  and  experienced  body  to  which 
they  had  unwarily  bade  defiance,  and  shrunk  back  from 
their  front. 

The  Earl  of  Essex,  when   he  beheld  them  pause   in 


490  IVANHOE. 

their  assembled  force,  dashed  the  rowels  into  his  charger's 
sides,  and  galloped  backwards  and  forwards  to  array  his 
followers,  in  opposition  to  a  band  so  formidable.  Richard 
alone,  as  if  he  loved  the  danger  his  presence  had  pro- 
voked, rode  slowly  along  the  front  of  the  Templars,  call- 
ing aloud :  "  What,  sirs !  Among  so  many  gallant  knights, 
will  none  dare  to  splinter  a  spear  with  Richard  ?  —  Sirs 
of  the  Temple !  your  ladies  are  but  sunburned,  if  they 
are  not  worth  the  shiver  of  a  broken  lance !  " 

"  The  brethren  of  the  Temple,"  said  the  Grand  Master, 
riding  forward  in  advance  of  their  body,  "  fight  not  on 
such  idle  and  profane  quarrel ;  and  not  with  thee,  Richard 
of  England,  shall  a  Templar  cross  lance  in  my  presence. 
The  Pope  and  princes  of  Europe  shall  judge  our  quarrel, 
and  whether  a  Christian  prince  has  done  well  in  buckler- 
ing the  cause  which  thou  hast  to-day  adopted.  If  un- 
assailed,  we  depart  assailing  no  one.  To  thine  honour 
we  refer  the  armour  and  household  goods  of  the  Order 
which  we  leave  behind  us,  and  on  thy  conscience  we  lay 
the  scandal  and  offence  thou  hast  this  day  given  to 
Christendom." 

With  these  words,  and  without  waiting  a  reply,  the 
Grand  Master  gave  the  signal  of  departure.  Their  trum- 
pets sounded  a  wild  march,  of  an  Oriental  character,  which 
formed  the  usual  signal  for  the  Templars  to  advance. 
They  changed  their  array  from  a  line  to  a  column  of 
march,  and  moved  off  as  slowly  as  their  horses  could  step, 
as  if  to  show  it  was  only  the  will  of  their  Grand  Master, 
and  no  fear  of  the  opposing  ancl  superior  force,  which 
compelled  them  to  withdraw. 

"  By  the  splendour  of  Our  Lady's  brow !  "  said  King 
Richard,  "  it  is  pity  of  their  lives  that  these  Templars 
are  not  so  trusty,  as  they  are  disciplined  and  valiant." 

The  multitude,  like  a  timid  cur  which  waits  to  bark  till 
the  object  of  its  challenge  has  turned  his  back,  raised  a 
feeble  shout  as  the  rear  of  the  squadron  left  the  ground. 

During  the  tumult  which  attended  the  retreat  of  the 
Templars,  Rebecca  saw  and  heard  nothing ;  she  was  locked 
in  the  arms  of  her  aged  father,  giddy,  and  almost  sense- 
less, with  the  rapid  change  of  circumstances  around  her. 


IVAKHOE.  491 

But  one  word  from  Isaac  at  length  recalled  her  scattered 
feelings. 

"  Let  us  go/'  he  said,  "  my  dear  daughter,  my  recovered 
treasure  —  let  us  go  to  throw  ourselves  at  the  feet  of  the 
good  youth." 

"Not  so,"  said  Rebecca.  "Oh  no  —  no  —  no!  I  must 
not  at  this  moment  dare  to  speak  to  him.     Alas !  I  should 

say  more  than No,  my  father,  let  us  instantly  leave 

this  evil  place." 

"  But,  my  daughter,"  said  Isaac,  "  to  leave  him  who  hath 
come  forth  like  a  strong  man  with  his  spear  and  shield, 
holding  his  life  as  nothing,  so  he  might  redeem  thy  cap- 
tivity; and  thou,  too,  the  daughter  of  a  people  strange 
unto  him  and  his  —  this  is  service  to  be  thankfully 
acknowledged." 

"  It  is  —  it  is  —  most  thankfully  —  most  devoutly  ac- 
knowledged," said  Rebecca ;  "  it  shall  be  still  more  so  — 
but  not  now  —  for  the  sake  of  thv  beloved  Rachel,  father, 
grant  my  request  —  not  now  ! ' 

"Nay,  but,"  said  Isaac,  insisting,  "they  will  deem  us 
more  thankless  than  mere  dogs  !  " 

"  But  thou  seest,  my  dear  father,  that  King  Richard  is 
in  presence,  and  that " 

"True,  my  best — my  wisest  Rebecca.  Let  us  hence — 
let  us  hence !  Money  he  will  lack,  for  he  has  just  returned 
from  Palestine,  and,  as  they  say, from  prison;  and  pretext 
for  exacting  it,  should  he  need  any,  may  arise  out  of  my 
simple  traffic  with  his  brother  John.  Away  —  away,  let 
us  hence ! " 

And  hurrying  his  daughter  in  his  turn,  he  conducted 
her  from  the  lists,  and  by  means  of  conveyance  which  he 
had  provided,  transported  her  safely  to  the  house  of  the 
Rabbi  Nathan. 

The  Jewess,  whose  fortunes  had  formed  the  principal 
interest  of  the  day,  having  now  retired  unobserved,  the 
attention  of  the  populace  was  transferred  to  the  Black 
Knight.  They  now  filled  the  air  with  "  Long  life  to 
Richard  with  the  Lion's  Heart,  and  down  with  the  usurp- 
ing Templars !  " 

"  Notwithstanding  all  this  lip-loyalty,"  said  Ivanhoe  to 


492  IVANHOE. 

the  Earl  of  Essex,  "it  was  well  the  King  took  the  precau- 
tion to  bring  thee  with  him,  noble  Earl,  and  so  many  of 
thy  trusty  followers." 

The  Earl  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

"Gallant  Ivanhoe,"  said  Essex,  "dost  thou  know  our 
master  so  well,  and  yet  suspect  him  of  taking  so  wise  a 
precaution?  I  was  drawing  towards  York,  having  heard 
that  Prince  John  was  making  head  there,  when  I  met 
King  Richard,  like  a  true  knight-errant,  galloping  hither 
to  achieve  in  his  own  person  this  adventure  of  the  Templar 
and  the  Jewess,  with  his  own  single  arm.  I  accompanied 
him  with  my  band,  almost  maugre  his  consent." 

"And  what  news  from  York,  brave  Earl  ?  "  said  Ivan- 
hoe ;  "  will  the  rebels  bide  us  there  ?  " 

"No  more  than  December's  snow  will  bide  July's  sun," 
said  the  Earl ;  "  they  are  dispersing ;  and  who  should  come 
posting  to  bring  us  the  news,  but  John  himself ! " 

"The  traitor  !  — the  ungrateful,  insolent  traitor  !  "  said 
Ivanhoe  ;  "  did  not  Richard  order  him  into  confinement  ?  " 

"  Oh !  he  received  him,"  answered  the  Earl,  "  as  if  they 
had  met  after  a  hunting  party ;  and,  pointing  to  me  and 
our  men-at-arms,  said,  l  Thou  seest,  brother,  I  have  some 
angry  men  with  me ;  thou  wert  best  go  to  our  mother, 
carry  her  my  duteous  affection,  and  abide  with  her  until 
men's  minds  are  pacified.' " 

"  And  this  was  all  he  said  ?  "  inquired  Ivanhoe ;  "  would 
not  any  one  say  that  this  prince  invites  men  to  treason 
by  his  clemency  ?  " 

"  Just,"  replied  the  Earl,  "  as  the  man  may  be  said  to 
invite  death  who  undertakes  to  fight  a  combat,  having  a 
dangerous  wound  unhealed." 

"I  forgive  thee  the  jest,  Lord  Earl,"  said  Ivanhoe; 
"but,  remember,  I  hazarded  but  my  own  life  —  Richard, 
the  welfare  of  his  kingdom." 

"  Those,"  replied  Essex,  "  who  are  specially  careless  of 
their  own  welfare  are  seldom  remarkably  attentive  to  that 
of  others  —  But  let  us  haste  to  the  castle,  for  Richard 
meditates  punishing  some  of  the  subordinate  members  of 
the  conspiracy,  though  he  has  pardoned  their  principal." 

From  the  judicial  investigations  which  followed  on  this 


IVANHOE.  493 

occasion,  and  which  are  given  at  length  in  the  Wardour 
Manuscript,  it  appears  that  Maurice  de  Bracy  escaped  be- 
yond seas,  and  went  into  the  service  of  Philip  of  France, 
while  Philip  de  Malvoisin  and  his  brother  Albert,  the 
Preceptor  of  Templestowe,  were  executed,  although  AVal- 
demar  Fitzurse,  the  soul  of  the  conspiracy,  escaped  with 
banishment,  and  Prince  John,  for  whose  behoof  it  was 
undertaken,  was  not  even  censured  by  his  good-natured 
brother.  No  one,  however,  pitied  the  fate  of  the  two 
Malvoisins,  who  only  suffered  the  death  which  they  had 
both  well  deserved,  by  many  acts  of  falsehood,  cruelty, 
and  oppression. 

Briefly  after  the  judicial  combat,  Cedric  the  Saxon  was 
summoned  to  the  court  of  Richard,  which,  for  the  purpose 
of  quieting  the  counties  that  had  been  disturbed  by  the 
ambition  of  his  brother,  was  then  held  at  York.  Cedric 
tushed  and  pshawed  more  than  once  at  the  message  —  but 
he  refused  not  obedience.  In  fact,  the  return  of  Richard 
had  quenched  every  hope  that  he  had  entertained  of  re- 
storing a  Saxon  dynasty  in  England ;  for,  whatever  head 
the  Saxons  might  have  made  in  the  event  of  a  civil  war, 
it  was  plain  that  nothing  could  be  done  under  the  undis- 
puted dominion  of  Richard,  popular  as  he  was  by  his 
personal  good  qualities  and  military  fame,  although  his 
administration  was  wilfully  careless  —  now  too  indulgent 
and  now  allied  to  despotism. 

But,  moreover,  it  could  not  escape  even  Cedric's  reluc- 
tant observation  that  his  project  for  an  absolute  union 
among  the  Saxons,  by  the  marriage  of  Rowena  and  Athel- 
stane, was  now  completely  at  an  end,  by  the  mutual  dis- 
sent of  both  parties  concerned.  This  was,  indeed,  an 
event  which,  in  his  ardour  for  the  Saxon  cause,  he  could 
not  have  anticipated ;  and  even  when  the  disinclination 
of  both  was  broadly  and  plainly  manifested,  he  could 
scarce  bring  himself  to  believe  that  two  Saxons  of  royal 
descent  should  scruple,  on  personal  grounds,  at  an  alliance 
so  necessary  for  the  public  weal  of  the  nation.  But  it 
was  not  the  less  certain.  Rowena  had  always  expressed  her 
repugnance  to  Athelstane,  and  now  Athelstane  was  no  less 
plain  and  positive  in  proclaiming  his  resolution  never  to 


494  IVANHOE. 

pursue  his  addresses  to  the  Lady  Eowena.  Even  the 
natural  obstinacy  of  Cedric  sunk  beneath  these  obstacles, 
where  he,  remaining  on  the  point  of  junction,  had  the 
task  of  dragging  a  reluctant  pair  up  to  it,  one  with  each 
hand.  He  made,  however,  a  last  vigorous  attack  on  Athel- 
stane,  and  he  found  that  resuscitated  sprout  of  Saxon 
royalty  engaged,  like  country  squires  of  our  own  day,  in 
a  furious  war  with  the  clergy. 

It  seems  that,  after  all  his  deadly  menaces  against  the 
Abbot  of  St.  Edmund's,  Athelstane's  spirit  of  revenge, 
what  between  the  natural  indolent  kindness  of  his  own 
disposition,  what  through  the  prayers  of  his  mother  Edith, 
attached,  like  most  ladies  (of  the  period),  to  the  clerical 
order,  had  terminated  in  his  keeping  the  Abbot  and  his 
monks  in  the  dungeons  of  Coningsburgh  for  three  days 
on  a  meagre  diet.  For  this  atrocity  the  Abbot  menaced 
him  with  excommunication,  and  made  out  a  dreadful  list 
of  complaints  in  the  bowels  and  stomach,  suffered  by  him- 
self and  his  monks,  in  consequence  of  the  tyrannical  and 
unjust  imprisonment  they  had  sustained.  With  this  con- 
troversy, and  with  the  means  he  had  adopted  to  counter- 
act this  clerical  persecution,  Cedric  found  the  mind  of  his 
friend  Athelstane  so  fully  occupied,  that  it  had  no  room 
for  another  idea.  And  when  Rowena's  name  was  men- 
tioned, the  noble  Athelstane  prayed  leave  to  quaff  a  full 
goblet  to  her  health,  and  that  she  might  soon  be  the  bride 
of  his  kinsman  Wilfred.  It  was  a  desperate  case,  there- 
fore. There  was  obviously  no  more  to  be  made  of  Athel- 
stane ;  or,  as  Wamba  expressed  it,  in  a  phrase  which  has 
descended  from  Saxon  times  to  ours,  he  was  a  cock  that 
would  not  fight. 

There  remained  betwixt  Cedric  and  the  determination 
which  the  lovers  desired  to  come  to,  only  two  obstacles 
—  his  own  obstinacy,  and  his  dislike  of  the  Norman 
dynasty.  The  former  feeling  gradually  gave  way  before 
the  endearments  of  his  ward  and  the  pride  which  he 
could  not  help  nourishing  in  the  fame  of  his  son.  Be- 
sides, he  was  not  insensible  to  the  honour  of  allying  his 
own  line  to  that  of  Alfred,  when  the  superior  claims  of 
the  descendant  of  Edward  the  Confessor  were  abandoned 


IVAXHOE.  495 

for  ever.  Cedric's  aversion  to  the  Xorruan  race  of  kings 
was  also  much  undermined  —  first,  by  consideration  of 
the  impossibility  of  ridding  England  of  the  new  dynasty, 
a  feeling  which  goes  far  to  create  loyalty  in  the  subject 
to  the  king  de  facto  ;  and,  secondly,  by  the  personal  at- 
tention of  King  Richard,  who  delighted  in  the  blunt 
humour  of  Cedric,  and  to  use  the  language  of  the  War- 
dour  Manuscript,  so  dealt  with  the  noble  Saxon  that,  ere 
he  had  been  a  guest  at  court  for  seven  days,  he  had  given 
his  consent  to  the  marriage  of  his  ward  and  his  son 
Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe. 

The  nuptials  of  our  hero,  thus  formally  approved  by 
his  father,  were  celebrated  in  the  most  august  of  temples, 
the  noble  minster  of  York.  The  King  himself  attended, 
and,  from  the  countenance  which  he  afforded  on  this  and 
other  occasions  to  the  distressed  and  hitherto  degraded 
Saxons,  gave  them  a  safer  and  more  certain  prospect  of 
attaining  their  just  rights  than  they  could  reasonably 
hope  from  the  precarious  chance  of  a  civil  war.  The 
Church  gave  her  full  solemnities,  graced  with  all  the 
splendour  which  she  of  Rome  knows  how  to  apply  with 
such  brilliant  effect. 

Gurth,  gallantly  apparelled,  attended  as  esquire  upon 
his  young  master,  whom  he  had  served  so  faithfully, 
and  the  magnanimous  Wamba,  decorated  with  a  new  cap 
and  a  most  gorgeous  set  of  silver  bells.  Sharers  of  Wil- 
fred's  dangers  and  adversitv,  thev  remained,  as  thev  had 
a  right  to  expect,  the  partakers  of  his  more  prosperous 
career. 

But,  besides  this  domestic  retinue,  these  distinguished 
nuptials  were  celebrated  by  the  attendance  of  the  high- 
born Xormans,  as  well  as  Saxons,  joined  with  the  uni- 
versal jubilee  of  the  lower  orders,  that  marked  the 
marriage  of  two  individuals  as  a  pledge  of  the  future 
peace  and  harmony  betwixt  two  races,  which,  since  that 
period,  have  been  so  completely  mingled  that  the  dis- 
tinction has  become  wholly  invisible.  Cedric  lived  to 
see  this  union  approximate  towards  its  completion;  for, 
as  the  two  nations  mixed  in  society  and  formed  inter- 
marriages with  each  other,  the  Xormans  abated  their 


496  IVANHOE. 

scorn,  and  the  Saxons  were  refined  from  their  rusticity. 
But  it  was  not  until  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Third  that 
the  mixed  language,  now  termed  English,  was  spoken  at 
the  court  of  London,  and  that  the  hostile  distinction  of 
Norman  and  Saxon  seems  entirely  to  have  disappeared. 

It  was  upon  the  second  morning  after  this  happy 
bridal  that  the  Lady  Rowena  was  made  acquainted  by 
her  handmaid  Elgitha,  that  a  damsel  desired  admission 
to  her  presence,  and  solicited  that  their  parley  might  be 
without  witness.  Rowena  wondered,  hesitated,  became 
curious,  and  ended  by  commanding  the  damsel  to  be  ad- 
mitted, and  her  attendants  to  withdraw. 

She  entered  —  a  noble  and  commanding  figure,  the 
long  white  veil,  in  which  she  was  shrouded,  overshadow- 
ing rather  than  concealing  the  elegance  and  majesty  of 
her  shape.  Her  demeanour  was  that  of  respect,  un- 
mingled  by  the  least  shade  either  of  fear  or  of  a  wish  to 
propitiate  favour.  Rowena  was  ever  ready  to  acknowl- 
edge the  claims,  and  attend  to  the  feelings,  of  others. 
She  arose,  and  would  have  conducted  her  lovely  visitor 
to  a  seat ;  but  the  stranger  looked  at  Elgitha,  and  again 
intimated  a  wish  to  discourse  with  the  Lady  Rowena 
alone.  Elgitha  had  no  sooner  retired  with  unwilling 
steps  than,  to  the  surprise  of  the  Lady  of  Ivanhoe,  her 
fair  visitant  kneeled  on  one  knee,  pressed  her  hands  to 
her  forehead,  and  bending  her  head  to  the  ground,  in 
spite  of  Rowena's  resistance,  kissed  the  embroidered 
hem  of  her  tunic. 

"What  means  this,  lady?"  said  the  surprised  bride; 
"  or  why  do  you  offer  to  me  a  deference  so  unusual  ?  " 

"Because  to  you,  Lady  of  Ivanhoe,"  said  Rebecca, 
rising  up  and  resuming  the  usual  quiet  dignity  of  her 
manner,  "I  may  lawfully,  and  without  rebuke,  pay  the 
debt  of  gratitude  which  I  owe  to  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe.  I 
am  —  forgive  the  boldness  which  has  offered  to  you  the 
homage  of  my  country  —  I  am  the  unhappy  Jewess  for 
whom  your  husband  hazarded  his  life  against  such  fearful 
odds  in  the  tiltyard  of  Templestowe." 

"  Damsel,"  said  Rowena,  "  Wilfred  of  Ivanhoe  on  that 
day  rendered  back  but  in  slight  measure  your  unceasing 


IV AN  HOE.  497 

charity  towards  him  in  his  wounds  and  misfortunes. 
Speak,  is  there  aught  remains  in  which  he  or  I  can  serve 
thee?" 

"Nothing,"  said  Rebecca,  calmly,  "unless  you  will  trans- 
mit to  him  my  grateful  farewell." 

"You  leave  England,  then?"  said  Rowena,  scarce  re- 
covering the  surprise  of  this  extraordinary  visit. 

"I  leave  it,  lady,  ere  this  moon  again  changes.  My 
father  hath  a  brother  high  in  favour  with  Mohammed 
Boabdil,  King  of  Grenada — thither  we  go,  secure  of  peace 
and  protection,  for  the  payment  of  such  ransom  as  the 
Moslem  exact  from  our  people." 

"And  are  you  not  then  as  well  protected  in  England?" 
said  Rowena.  "My  husband  has  favour  with  the  King; 
the  King  himself  is  just  and  generous." 

"Lady,"  said  Rebecca,  "I  doubt  it  not;  but  the  people 
of  England  are  a  fierce  race,  quarrelling  ever  with  their 
neighbours  or  among  themselves,  and  ready  to  plunge  the 
sword  into  the  bowels  of  each  other.  Such  is  no  safe 
abode  for  the  children  of  my  people.  Ephraim  is  an 
heartless  dove  —  Issachar  an  over-laboured  drudge,  which 
stoops  between  two  burdens.  Not  in  a  land  of  war  and 
blood,  surrounded  by  hostile  neighbours,  and  distracted 
by  internal  factions,  can  Israel  hope  to  rest  during  her 
wanderings." 

"But  you,  maiden,"  said  Rowena — "you  surely  can 
have  nothing  to  fear.  She  who  nursed  the  sick-bed  of 
Ivanhoe,"  she  continued,  rising  with  enthusiasm,  "she 
can  have  nothing  to  fear  in  England,  where  Saxon  and 
Norman  will  contend  who  shall  most  do  her  honour." 

"Thy  speech  is  fair,  lady,"  said  Rebecca,  "and  thy 
purpose  fairer;  but  it  may  not  be  —  there  is  a  gulf  betwixt 
us.  Our  breeding,  our  faith,  alike  forbid  either  to  pass 
over  it.  Farewell — yet,  ere  I  go,  indulge  me  one  request. 
The  bridal  veil  hangs  over  thy  face ;  deign  to  raise  it,  and 
let  me  see  the  features  of  which  fame  speaks  so  highly." 

"They  are  scarce  worthy  of  being  looked  upon,"  said 
Rowena;  "but,  expecting  the  same  from  my  visitant,  I 
remove  the  veil." 

She  took  it  off  accordingly ;  and,  partly  from  the  con- 
2k 


498  IVANHOE. 

sciousness  of  beauty,  partly  from  bashfulness,  she  blushed 
so  intensely  that  cheek,  brow,  neck,  and  bosom  were 
suffused  with  crimson.  Rebecca  blushed  also;  but  it  was 
a  momentary  feeling,  and,  mastered  by  higher  emotions, 
passed  slowly  from  her  features  like  the  crimson  cloud 
which  changes  colour  when  the  sun  sinks  beneath  the 
horizon. 

"Lady,"  she  said,  "the  countenance  you  have  deigned 
to  show  me  will  long  dwell  in  my  remembrance.  There 
reigns  in  it  gentleness  and  goodness;  and  if  a  tinge  of  the 
world's  pride  or  vanities  may  mix  with  an  expression  so 
lovely,  how  should  we  chide  that  which  is  of  earth  for 
bearing  some  colour  of  its  original?  Long,  long  will  I 
remember  your  features,  and  bless  God  that  I  leave  my 
noble  deliverer  united  with " 

She  stopped  short — her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  She 
hastily  wiped  them,  and  answered  to  the  anxious  inquiries 
of  Rowena:  "  I  am  well,  lady — well.  But  my  heart  swells 
when  I  think  of  Torquilstone  and  the  lists  of  Temple- 
stowe. — Farewell.  One,  the  most  trifling,  part  of  my  duty 
remains  undischarged.  Accept  this  casket — startle  not 
at  its  contents." 

Rowena  opened  the  small  silver-chased  casket,  and  per- 
ceived a  carcanet,  or  necklace,  with  ear  jewels,  of  dia- 
monds, which  were  obviously  of  immense  value. 

"It  is  impossible,"  she  said,  tendering  back  the  casket. 
"I  dare  not  accept  a  gift  of  such  consequence." 

"Yet  keep  it,  lady,"  returned  Rebecca.  "You  have 
power,  rank,  command,  influence;  we  have  wealth,  the 
source  both  of  our  strength  and  weakness;  the  value  of 
these  toys,  ten  times  multiplied,  would  not  influence  half 
so  much  as  your  slightest  wish.  To  you,  therefore,  the 
gift  is  of  little  value ;  and  to  me,  what  I  part  with  is  of 
much  less.  Let  me  not  think  you  deem  so  wretchedly  ill 
of  my  nation  as  your  commons  believe.  Think  ye  that  I 
prize  these  sparkling  fragments  of  stone  above  my  liberty  ? 
or  that  my  father  values  them  in  comparison  to  the  hon- 
our of  his  only  child?  Accept  them,  lady — to  me  they 
are  valueless.     I  will  never  wear  jewels  more." 

"You  are  then  unhappy!"  said  Rowena,  struck  with 


IVANHOE.  499 

the  manner  in  which  Rebecca  uttered  the  last  words.  "  Oh, 
remain  with  us;  the  counsel  of  holy  men  will  wean  you 
from  your  erring  law,  and  I  will  be  a  sister  to  you." 

"No,  lady,"  answered  Rebecca,  the  same  calm  melan- 
choly reigning  in  her  soft  voice  and  beautiful  features  — 
"that  may  not  be.  I  may  not  change  the  faith  of  my 
fathers  like  a  garment  unsuited  to  the  climate  in  which 
I  seek  to  dwell ;  and  unhappy,  lady,  I  will  not  be.  He 
to  whom  I  dedicate  my  future  life  will  be  my  comforter, 
if  I  do  His  will." 

"  Have  you  then  convents,  to  one  of  which  you  mean  to 
retire  ?  "  asked  Rowena. 

"No,  lady,"  said  the  Jewess;  "but  among  our  people, 
since  the  time  of  Abraham  downwards,  have  been  women 
who  have  devoted  their  thoughts  to  Heaven,  and  their 
actions  to  works  of  kindness  to  men  —  tending  the  sick, 
feeding  the  hungry,  and  relieving  the  distressed.  Among 
these  will  Rebecca  be  numbered.  Say  this  to  thy  lord, 
should  he  chance  to  inquire  after  the  fate  of  her  whose 
life  he  saved." 

There  was  an  involuntary  tremour  in  Rebecca's  voice, 
and  a  tenderness  of  accent,  which  perhaps  betrayed  more 
than  she  would  willingly  have  expressed.  She  hastened 
to  bid  Rowena  adieu. 

"Farewell,"  she  said.  "May  He  who  made  both  Jew 
and  Christian  shower  down  on  you  His  choicest  blessings ! 
The  bark  that  wafts  us  hence  will  be  under  weigh  ere  we 
can  reach  the  port." 

She  glided  from  the  apartment,  leaving  Rowena  sur- 
prised as  if  a  vision  had  passed  before  her.  The  fair 
Saxon  related  the  singular  conference  to  her  husband,  on 
whose  mind  it  made  a  deep  impression.  He  lived  long 
and  happily  with  Rowena,  for  they  were  attached  to  each 
other  by  the  bonds  of  early  affection,  and  they  loved  each 
other  the  more  from  the  recollection  of  the  obstacles 
which  had  impeded  their  union.  Yet  it  would  be  inquir- 
ing too  curiously  to  ask  whether  the  recollection  of 
Rebecca's  beauty  and  magnanimity  did  not  recur  to  his 
mind  more  frequently  than  the  fair  descendant  of  Alfred 
might  altogether  have  approved. 


500  -  IVANHOE. 

Ivanhoe  distinguished  himself  in  the  service  of  Richard, 
and  was  graced  with  farther  marks  of  the  royal  favour. 
He  might  have  risen  still  higher  but  for  the  premature 
death  of  the  heroic  Coeur-de-Lion,  before  the  Castle  of 
Chaluz,  near  Limoges.  With  the  life  of  a  generous,  but 
rash  and  romantic,  monarch,  perished  all  the  projects 
which  his  ambition  and  his  generosity  had  formed;  to 
whom  may  be  applied,  with  a  slight  alteration,  the  lines 
3omposed  by  Johnson  for  Charles  of  Sweden  — 

His  fate  was  destined  to  a  foreign  strand, 
A  petty  fortress  and  an  "  humble  "  hand  ; 
He  left  the  name  at  which  the  world  grew  pale, 
To  point  a  moral,  or  adorn  a  tale. 


NOTE 

The  following  plates  are  chosen  from 
Viollet-le-Duc's  Dictionnaire  de  V Architec- 
ture, from  the  account  of  the  Chateau  de 
Coucy.  This  castle  belongs  to  a  period 
somewhat  later  than  the  period  of  Ivanhoe, 
and  is  more  elaborate  than  Front-de-Boeuf*s 
Torquilstone.  But  it  shows  all  the  peculi- 
arities of  the  mediaeval  castle,  and  exem- 
plifies each  of  the  features  mentioned  by 
Scott  in  his  account  of  the  siege  and  de- 
struction of  Torquilstone. 


CHATEAU   DE  COUCY  (Ground  Plan) 


A,  Chapel;  B,  Donjon;  C,  D,  Towers;  E,  Bridge  across  the  Moat;  E'E",  Outer 
Gates;  FF',  Guard  House;  G,  Inner  Gate;  H,  Guard  Room;  I,  Curtain  of  the  Fort- 
ress ;  K,  Courtyard  ;  L,  Servants'  Quarters  ;  MM',  Dwellings  and  Staircases  ;  N,  Store- 
house and  Cellars ;  O,  Crypt  of  Chapel ;  PP\  Kitchen  and  Stairway  to  Cellars  ;  R, 
Kitchen  Courtyard  ;  S,  T,  Towers;  V,  Rampart;  XX',  Pierced  Postern  and  Well;  Y, 
Drawbridge  ;  Z,  Prison  with  Staircase; 


CHATEAU    DE  COUCY   (Exterior) 

From  Viollet-le-Duc's  Dlctiunnaire  de  V Architecture 


DURHAM 


\obui  Hood 8 
Harborough 

'Jamborougk  H 
'malon  B- 


<    T&r\.4KJ'Spe  La louche  Fire\' fo&Vhir* 

v-^H"-Tl¥ic  E  S  TE  KSmtMfiS 


JJVan. 


FFOJK^I 


MAP   OF   THE    NORTHEASTERN    PART    OF    ENGLAND 
Where  the  leading  events  of  Ivanhoe  are  supposed  to  have  taken  place 


NOTES. 

Page  1.     The  Dragon  of  Wantley.     Wantley  was   a   popular 
mispronunciation  of  Wharncliffe.     Bishop  Percy  in  the  "  Reliques„ . 
of  Ancient  English  Poetry"  included  a  ballad  which  tells  of  the 
conquest  of  a  dragon^in  this  vicinity.     The  ballad  is  a  burlesque, 
and  the  dragon  was  inVented  for  the  occasion. 

8.  the  two-legged  wolf.  The  outlaw  was  called  the  Wolf-man, 
the  companion  of  wolves.  In  one  of  Cynewulf's  "Riddles1'  the 
gallows  is  called  the  "wolf-head's  tree."  The  outlaw  was  even 
said  to  bear  a  wolf's  head. 

8.  the  ranger  of  the  forest.  "The  disabling  of  dogs,  which 
might  be  necessary  for  keeping  flocks  and  herds  from  running  at 
the  deer,  was  called  lawing  and  was  in  general  use."  (From  Scott's 
Note.)  The  ranger  is  an  officer  appointed  by  the  king  to  enforce 
the  forest  laws. 

9.  however  it  got  into  thy  fool's  pate.  We  may  easily  know 
how  it  got  into  Scott's  head.  Lockhart  says  that  "  this  play  upon 
the  Norman  and  English  names  of  the  same  objects  was  suggested 
to  Scott  by  his  friend  William  Clerk."  "Life  of  Scott,"  Vol.  VI., 
179.  Study  the  etymology  of  the  words  swine,  pork;  ox,  beef; 
calf,  veal. 

9.  Reginald  Front-de-Boeuf,  and  Philip  de  Malvoisin.  Scott 
says  that  a  roll  of  Norman  warriors  occurring  in  the  Auchinleck 
Ms.  gave  him  "the  formidable  name  of  Front-de-Bceuf  " — Bull's 
Front ;  the  composition  of  Malvoisin  is  evident :  mal  voisin  =  bad 
neighbor. 

11.  Flanders  cloth.  Strutt,  in  "The  Dress  and  Habits  of  the 
English  People,"  Part  III.,  Chap.  I.,  mentions  "the  great  number 
of  weavers  who  came  from  Flanders  in  the  army  of  the  Conqueror. 
For  even  at  that  remote  period  the  Flemings  were  so  skilful  in  the 
manufacturing  of  wool  that  .  .  .  the  art  of  weaving  seemed  to  be 
a  peculiar  gift  bestowed  upon  them  by  Nature." 

501 


502  NOTES. 

11.  A  monk  there  was.  In  this  extract  from  the  Prologue  and 
in  that  from  The  Knights  Tale  at  the  head  of  Chapter  XII.  Scott 
has  modernized  Chaucer's  spelling,  to  the  detriment  of  the  metre 
in  many  lines.  The  student  should  read  the  description  of  the 
monk  in  the  Prologue,  and  note  Scott's  debt  to  Chaucer. 

12.  Continues.    (See  Introduction,  "  Suggested  Emendations.") 

13.  Four  regular  orders  of  monks.  Dominicans,  Franciscans, 
Augustinians,  and  Carmelites  ;  to  be  distinguished  from  the  mili- 
tary orders. 

14.  Prior  of  Jorvaulx  Abbey.  Scott  does  not  distinguish  be- 
tween the  head  of  a  Priory  and  of  an  Abbey,  calling  this  monk 
sometimes  a  Prior  and  sometimes  an  Abbot. 

14.  Clergy,  whether  secular  or  regular.  The  regular  clergy  are 
those  who  live  in  some  religious  house,  as  monks  ;  the  secular 
clergy  are  those  whose  duties  lie  among  the  people,  as  priests. 

18.  the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  There  were  in  all 
nine  Crusades  or  expeditions  of  Christians  to  Jerusalem  to  recover 
the  sepulchre  of  Christ  from  the  Mohammedans.  In  the  First 
Crusade  (1096)  Jerusalem  was  taken  by  the  Christians.  It  was 
retaken  in  1187  by  the  Mohammedans  under  Saladin.  The  Third 
Crusade  (1189-92),  led  by  Richard  of  England,  Frederick  Bar- 
barossa  of  Germany,  and  Philip  of  France,  secured  only  a  three 
years'  truce  with  Saladin. 

18.  Knights  Templars,  one  of  three  military  orders  of  monks, 
the  others  being  the  Knights  Hospitallers  or  Knights  of  St.  John, 
and  the  Teutonic  Knights.  The  Templars  were  so  called  from  the 
fact  of  their  having  as  headquarters  the  Mosque  of  St.  Omar  on 
the  reputed  site  of  Solomon's  Temple.  The  order  became  very 
rich  and  influential,  and  finally  very  corrupt,  and  was  suppressed 
in  1312. 

20.  Hereward,  an  English  warrior  who  made  the  last  stand 
against  William  the  Conqueror  in  the  Isle  of  Ely,  in  1070. 

20.  the  Heptarchy,  the  union  of  the  seven  principal  Anglo- 
Saxon  kingdoms.  It  came  to  an  end  in  829.  The  discrepancy  in 
the  dates  we  may  attribute  to  the  Prior's  contemptuous  ignorance 
of  English  history. 

24.  wound.  Scott  elsewhere  uses  the  correct  preterit  of  the 
verb  wind,  winded,  pp.  213,  223,  etc. 

24.  In  a  hall.  Scott  has  evidently  taken  much  pains  to  give  an 
accurate  as  well  as  a  charming  picture  of  the  Old  English  hall. 


NOTES.  503 

25.  Carpets,  probably  an  anachronism.  In  the  Middle  Ages 
carpets  for  the  floor  were  practically  unknown.  Hangings  and 
covers  for  tables  were  called  carpets.  Floor- carpets  were  not  com- 
mon before  the  seventeenth  century. 

26.  the  Dividers  of  Bread.  Lord  and  lady  in  their  Old  Eng- 
ish  forms  were  hlaford  and  hlafdige  —  two  words  best  explained  as 
"loaf-keeper  and  loaf-kneader." 

26.  Cedric.  It  has  been  pointed  out  that  this  name  should  be 
Cerdic.  The  latter  was  the  form  of  the  name  of  the  first  king  of 
Wessex  (519),  and  was  a  highly  honored  name  among  the  Eng- 
lish. 

27.  Cedric's  dress.  Strutt's  splendid  work  "The  Dresse  and 
Habits  of  the  English  People  "  was  published  in  1796-99.  It  is 
clear  from  many  details  in  "Ivanhoe,"  that  Scott  had  studied  it 
with  care. 

29.  warders.  "  The  original  has  Cnichts,  by  which  the  Saxons 
seem  to  have  designated  a  class  of  military  attendants,  sometimes 
free,  sometimes  bondsmen,  but  always  ranking  above  an  ordinary 
domestic,  whether  in  the  royal  household  or  in  those  of  the  alder- 
men and  thanes.  But  the  term  cnicht,  now  spelt  knight,  having 
been  received  into  the  English  language  as  equivalent  to  the  Nor- 
man word  chevalier,  I  have  avoided  using  it  in  its  more  ancient 
sense,  to  prevent  confusion." —  Scott. 

31.  His  brother,  etc.  Scott  is  never  skilful  in  disguising  the 
information-giving  function  of  his  conversations.  They  too  often 
seem  directed  at  the  reader,  rather  than  exchanged  between  the 
speakers. 

35.  Uncle  Cedric.  The  title  uncle  was  used  by  fools  in  mock 
familiarity  with  their  masters. 

36.  disforested  in  terms  of  the  great  Forest  Charter.  The 
great  charter,  disforesting  or  throwing  open  to  the  people  much 
English  forest,  was  not  given  till  1215. 

39.  her  namesake.  Rowena  was  the  name  of  the  legendary 
wife  of  Vortigern,  a  British  king  of  the  fifth  century.  (See  the 
Century  Dictionary,  under  wassail.) 

41.  The  swineherd  will  be  a  fit  usher  to  the  Jew.  The  jests 
about  the  Jew  and  the  various  forms  and  phases  of  swine,  consti- 
tute much  of  the  comic  "  business"  of  "  Ivanhoe."  One  may  almost 
believe  that  Gurth's  occupation  was  determined  by  the  author  in 
view  of  the  possibilities  it  offered  for  this  jest, 


504  NOTES. 

44.  Surely  no  tongue  is  so  rich,  etc.  "There  was  no  language 
which  the  Normans  more  formally  separated  from  that  of  common 
Me  than  the  terms  of  the  chase.  The  objects  of  their  pursuit, 
whether  bird  or  animal,  changed  their  name  each  year,  and  there 
were  a  hundred  conventional  terms,  to  be  ignorant  of  which  was 
to  be  without  one  of  the  distinguishing  marks  of  a  gentleman.  The 
reader  may  consult  Dame  Juliana  Berners'  book  on  the  subject. 
The  origin  of  this  science  was  imputed  to  the  celebrated  Sir 
Tristrem,  famous  for  his  tragic  intrigue  with  the  beautiful  Ysolte. 
As  the  Normans  reserved  the  amusement  of  hunting  strictly  to 
themselves,  the  terms  of  this  formal  jargon  were  all  taken  from  the 
French  language."  —  Scott. 

44.  the  field  of  North  Allerton.  The  English  barons  defeated 
the  Scotch  invaders  in  1138  in  a  battle  at  North  Allerton,  a  village 
in  the  North  Riding  of  Yorkshire.  The  English  were  led  by  Arch- 
bishop Thurstan,  and  the  fight  was  called  the  battle  of  the  Holy 
Standard.     (See  Green's  "  Short  History,"  Chap.  II.,  Section  VII.) 

46.  St.  John  de  Acre.  Acre,  a  seaport  of  Palestine,  was  taken 
by  the  Crusaders  under  Richard  I.  in  1191. 

47.  the  Knight  of  Ivanhoe.  We  are  to  understand  that  Wilfred 
the  son  of  Cedric  had  received  the  estate  of  Ivanhoe  from  King 
Richard,  and  that  he  had  gone  to  Palestine  with  the  king. 

50.  Exchequer  of  the  Jews.  "  In  those  days  the  Jews  were  sub- 
jected to  an  Exchequer  specially  dedicated  to  that  purpose,  and 
which  laid  them  under  the  most  exorbitant  impositions."  — Scott. 

54.  Cyprus.  Richard  captured  the  Island  of  Cyprus  on  the 
way  toward  Palestine  in  1191. 

57.  the  misery  of  Lazarus.  Is  this  a  natural  allusion  for  the 
Jew? 

62.  those  of  the  host  of  Pharaoh.  (See  the  account  in  Exodus 
xiv.) 

65.    the  rod  of  Moses.     (See  Exodus  iv.) 

68.  salvage  or  silvan  man.  "This  sort  of  masquerade  is  sup- 
posed to  have  occasioned  the  introduction  of  supporters  into  the 
science  of  heraldry."  —  Scott. 

72.  a  stout,  well-set  yeoman.  Scott's  debt  to  Chaucer  is  here 
so  striking  that  we  cannot  but  wonder  that  he  did  not  give  credit 
for  his  details.  Read  the  description  of  the  Yeoman  in  the  Pro- 
logue to  the  "  Canterbury  Tales." 

72.     Knights  of  St.  John  —  called  also  Knights  Hospitallers  and, 


NOTES?  505 

in  more  modern  times,  Knights  of  Malta ;  originally  an  association 
of  brethren  who  maintained  a  hospital  in  Jerusalem  for  the  care 
of  sick  pilgrims.  Later  they  became  a  military  organization,  bit- 
ter rivals  of  the  Templars.  The  order  is  still  in  existence.  See 
"  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,11  article  on  Saint  John  of  Jerusalem,  etc. 

76.  descent  from  the  Last  of  the  Saxon  monarchs.  Scott 
makes  much  use  of  this  supposititious  descent  of  Athelstane  from 
Edward  the  Confessor.  But  it  is  well  known  that  this  monarch 
had  no  descendants.     (See  Freeman,  "  Norman  Conquest,"  II.) 

77.  Wat  Tyrrel's  mark.  King  William  Kufus  was  found  dead 
in  the  forest,  slain  by  an  arrow  supposed  to  have  been  shot  by  Sir 
Walter  Tyrrel,  with  whom  he  was  hunting,, 

77.  his  grandfather.  William  Rufus  was  in  fact  the  brother 
of  John's  great-grandfather. 

83.  Lines  from  a  contemporary.  The  contemporary  was 
Coleridge.  Scott  does  not  quote  the  lines  quite  accurately.  See 
Coleridge's  lines,  "The  Knight's  Tomb." 

85.  attaint.  "  This  term  of  chivalry,  transferred  to  the  law,  gives 
the  phrase  of  being  attainted  of  treason."  —  Scott. 

89.     rider.     (See  Introduction,  "Suggested  Emendations.") 

102.  signs  and  sounds.  (See  Introduction,  "  Suggested  Emenda- 
tions.") 

107.  robed  the  seething  billows  in  my  choice  silks.  Is  there 
not  here  something  more  than  a  reminiscence  of  "The  Merchant 
of  Venice,"  I.  i.  34,  35: 

"  Scatter  all  her  spices  on  the  stream, 
Enrobe  the  roaring  waters  with  my  silks  "  9 

108.  Sabaoth.  "Sabaoth"  and  "  Sabbath"  are  two  quite  dis- 
tinct Hebrew  words. 

111.  dipt  within  the  ring  A  coin  that  was  dipt  was  one  that 
had  lost  some  of  its  metal.  A  coin  that  was  "  cracked  within  the 
ring  "  was  one  that  was  defaced  by  a  crack  extending  farther  in 
than  the  ring  about  the  edge.  Scott's  combination  of  the  two 
expressions  may  be  a  reminiscence  of  "  Hamlet,"  II.  ii,  456. 

112.  Goliath  the  Philistine.     (See  Samuel  xvii.  7.) 

112.  the  miller,  etc.  The  mediaeval  miller  took  toll,  that  is, 
reserved  a  portion  of  the  meal  to  pay  for  the  grinding.  The  toll- 
dish  was  his  measure.     He  tested  the  fineness  of  the  flour  by  feel 


506  NOTES. 

ing  it  between  his  thumb  and  finger.  The  miller's  dishonesty  in 
measuring  and  testing  was  proverbial,  the  "toll-dish1'  and  "the 
miller's  thumb  "  being  symbols  of  this.  It  would  seem  that  Scott 
uses  these  two  terms  to  give  an  antique  flavor  to  his  passage,  and 
does  not  use  them  accurately.     (See  Chaucer's  Prologue,  562-3.) 

127.  "  Beau-s6ant  was  the  name  of  the  Templar's  banner,  which 
was  half  black,  half  white,  to  intimate,  it  is  said,  that  they  were 
candid  and  fair  toward  Christians,  but  black  and  terrible  toward 
infidels."  —  Scott. 

144.  his  arrow  split  the  willow  wand.  In  one  of  the  old  bal- 
lads the  feat  of  splitting  another  arrow  already  in  the  target  is 
attributed  to  Clim  of  the  Clough,  and  in  the  same  ballad  William 
of  Cloudesley  is  said  to  have  "  clove  in  two  "  a  hazel  rod  at  four 
hundred  yards.  Robin  Hood  in  several  of  his  trials  at  archery 
cleaves  the  wand  at  sixty  yards. 

150.  the  British  Crown.  Professor  Perry  points  out  the  anach- 
ronism of  John's  allusion  to  the  British  Crown. 

151.  nidering.  "There  was  nothing  accounted  so  ignominious 
among  the  Saxons  as  to  merit  this  disgraceful  epithet.  Even  Will- 
iam the  Conqueror,  hated  as  he  was  by  them,  continued  to  draw  a 
considerable  army  of  Anglo-Saxons  to  his  standard,  by  threaten- 
ing to  stigmatize  those  who  stayed  at  home,  as  nidering.  Bartho- 
linus,  I  think,  mentions  a  similar  phrase  which  had  like  influence 
on  the  Danes." — Scott.  (See  Green's  "  Short  History,"  Chap.  I., 
Section  II.) 

155.  Chapter  XV.  The  first  volume  of  the  first  edition  closed 
with  the  fourteenth  chapter. 

155.  And  yet  he  thinks,  etc.  Scott  says  in  the  Introduction  to 
the  "  Chronicles  of  the  Canongate,"  "  The  scraps  of  poetry  which 
have  been  in  most  cases  tacked  to  the  beginning  of  chapters  in 
these  novels  are  sometimes  quoted  either  from  reading  or  from 
memory  but,  in  the  general  case,  are  pure  invention.  .  .  .  I  believe 
that  in  some  cases,  when  actual  names  are  affixed  to  the  supposed 
quotations,  it  would  be  to  little  purpose  to  seek  them  in  the  authors 
referred  to." 

155.  Cabal.  This  word  is  made  up  of  the  initials  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Cabinet  of  1671,  Clifford,  Arlington,  Buckingham,  Ash- 
ley, Lauderdale. 

156.  Richard's  title  of  primogeniture.  (See  Green's  "Short 
History,"  Chapter  II.,  Section  VI.) 


NOTES.  507 

158.  De  Bracy's  version  of  the  Prior's  tale  is  a  clever  imitation 
of  the  method  of  some  of  the  mediaeval  story-tellers  in  mixing  up 
details  from  different  times,  races,  and  countries,  especially  of  the 
naive  confusion  of  Biblical  and  chivalric  characteristics  and  ex- 
periences. 

165.  the  road.  In  the  ballad  which  suggested  to  Scott  the 
meeting  of  the  Black  Knight  and  the  Friar  (see  Introduction) 
occurs  the  detail  of  the  difficult  road.  Otherwise  we  might  regard 
it  as  a  trick  of  the  Hermit  of  Copmanhurst  to  obtain  company  for 
the  night.  All  the  Hermit's  preliminary  reluctance  seems  a  play 
of  humor  rather  than  a  design  to  deceive  or  discourage  the  Knight. 

166.  noise  of  barking  and  growling.  The  association  of  the 
Hermit  of  Copmanhurst  with  the  great  dogs  may  be  a  reminiscence 
of  the  ballad  of  "  Robin  Hood  and  the  Curtal  Friar,"  in  which  the 
Friar  has  command  of  a  company  of  ferocious  bandogs.  (See 
Child's  »  English  and  Scottish  Ballads,"  Vol.  V.) 

169.  the  ram  at  a  wrestling-match,  etc.  A  ram  was  the  cus- 
tomary prize  at  a  wrestling  match.  See  Chaucer's  Prologue,  548, 
and  Strutt's  "  Sports  and  Pastimes  of  the  English  People." 

The  prize  in  a  bout  of  quarter-staff  varied. 

To  "  bear  the  buckler  "  at  sword-play  or  fencing  was  to  win.  To 
/ay  down  the  buckler  was  to  declare  oneself  vanquished. 

172.  an  my  gown  saved  me  not.  In  old  English  law,  the  persons 
of  all  ecclesiastics  were  exempted  from  criminal  proceeding.  (See 
the  phrase  "benefit  of  clergy.") 

173.  the  scissors  of  Delilah,  etc.     (See  Judges  xvi.  18.) 

173.  The  tenpenny  nail  of  Jael  —  Judges  iv.  In  the  Authorized 
Version,  Jael's  weapon  is  called  a  nail  of  the  tent ;  in  the  Revised 
Version,  "a  tent-pin."  The  Friar's  term  is  a  comically  lucky 
suggestion  of  both. 

173.  The  scimitar  of  Goliath  —  1  Samuel  xvii. 

1 74.  The  Jolly  Hermit.  '  'All  readers,  however  slightly  acquainted 
with  black-letter,  must  recognize  in  the  Clerk  of  Copmanhurst 
Friar  Tuck,  the  buxom  confessor  of  Robin  Hood's  gang,  the  Curtal 
Friar  of  Fountain's  Abbey."  —  Scott. 

From  the  ballad  of  "  Robin  Hood  and  the  Curtal  Friar,"  we  may 
infer  that  this  Friar  became  a  member  of  Robin  Hood's  gang ;  but 
there  is  nothing  in  the  ballads  to  tell  us  that  it  was  in  the  capacity 
of  a  confessor.  Neither  is  Friar  Tuck  mentioned  in  the  Robin 
Hood  ballads.    He  became  associated  with  Robin  Hood  in  the  May 


508  NOTES. 

games,  and,  in  certain  later  ballads,  is  twice  mentioned  as  belong- 
ing to  the  gang.  The  identification  of  the  Curtal  Friar  of  Foun- 
tain's Abbey  and  Friar  Tuck  is  Scott's  own  fortunate  invention. 

175.  Allan-a-dale.  The  Scotch  minstrel  who  joined  himself  to 
Robin  Hood's  band. 

175,  A  sirvente  in  the  language  of  oc,  etc.  "The  realm  of 
France,  it  is  well  known,  was  divided  betwixt  the  Norman  and 
Teutonic  race,  who  spoke  the  language  in  which  the  word  '  yes ' 
is  pronounced  as  oui,  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  southern  regions, 
whose  speech,  bearing  some  affinity  to  the  Italian,  pronounced  the 
same  word  oc.  The  poets  of  the  former  race  were  called  Minstrels, 
and  their  poems  lays :  those  of  the  latter  were  termed  Trouba- 
dours, and  their  compositions  called  sirventes,  and  other  names. 
Richard,  a  professed  admirer  of  the  joyous  science  in  all  its 
branches,  could  imitate  either  the  minstrel  or  troubadour.  It  is 
less  likely  that  he  should  have  been  able  to  compose  or  sing  an 
English  ballad ;  yet  so  much  do  we  wish  to  assimilate  him  of  the 
Lion  Heart  to  the  band  of  warriors  whom  he  led,  that  the  anach- 
ronism, if  there  be  one,  may  readily  be  forgiven."'  —  Scott. 

177.  derry-down  chorus.  "  It  may  be  proper  to  remind  the 
reader  that  the  chorus  of  '  Derry-down '  is  supposed  to  be  as 
ancient,  not  only  as  the  times  of  the  Heptarchy,  but  as  those  of 
the  Druids,  and  to  have  furnished  the  chorus  to  the  hymns  of 
those  venerable  persons  when  they  went  to  the  wood  to  gather 
mistletoe. "  —  Scott. 

177.  The  Barefooted  Friar.  Mendicant  friars  were  not  known 
in  England  till  after  1274.  See,  in  connection  with  these  verses, 
Chaucer's  picture  of  the  Frere  in  the  Prologue. 

178.  primes,  noons,  etc.  The  "  hours  "  of  the  church  were  seven : 
Nocturns  at  midnight;  matins,  called  also  lauds,  in  one  of  the 
three  hours  before  sunrise ;  primes,  in  the  first  hour  after  sunrise  ; 
terce,  sexte,  and  none,  or  noons,  in  the  third,  sixth,  and  ninth 
hours  after  sunrise  ;  and  vespers  in  the  last  hour  before  sunset. 

179.  the  tongs  of  St.  Dunstan.  There  is  a  well-known  legend 
of  St.  Dunstan  vanquishing  the  devil  by  seizing  him  by  the  nose 
with  his  tongs. 

179.  Ariosto,  a  famous  Italian  poet  (d.  1533),  whose  great  poem 
"Orlando  Furioso"  is  so  rich  in  incident  and  episode  that  it  has 
been  said  to  have  no  unity.  Scott  reflects  many  times  his  interest 
in  Ariosto. 


NOTES.  509 

185.     This  Saxon  Confederacy  is  an  invention  of  Scott's. 

189.  invoking  the  protection,  etc.  All  invocations,  oaths,  im- 
precations, etc.,  are  un-Jewish.  It  may  be  that  the  Jews  of  the 
Middle  Ages  contracted  the  habit  of  invocation  from  Christians, 
with  whom  it  seems  to  have  been  prevalent.  Witness  the  list  of 
thirty-three  saints  in  the  glossary  of  this  story.  This  passage  must 
be  taken  as  a  measure  of  Isaac's  perturbation  rather  than  as  a 
credible  picture. 

196.  Cow-keeper.  (See  Introduction,  "  Suggested  Emenda- 
tions.") 

197.  Watling  Street.  One  of  the  great  Roman  roads  in  Eng- 
land. Watling  Street  ran  from  Dover  through  London  to  Chester. 
The  name  is  used  here,  as  in  the  "  Little  Geste  of  Robin  Hood,"  of 
the  Great  North  Road. 

209.  Harold,  etc.  The  English  king  who  was  defeated  by  Will- 
iam the  Norman  at  the  battle  of  Hastings  in  1066.  Tosti  (Tostig) 
his  brother  had  joined  the  Norwegians  against  Harold.  (See 
Green's  "Short  History,"  Chapter  II.,  Section  IV.)  At  the  time 
when  Cedric  was  supposed  to  be  speaking  Harold  had  been  dead  a 
hundred  and  thirty  years.  The  anachronisms  connected  with 
Torquil  Wolfganger  and  with  his  daughter  Ulrica,  who  appears 
later,  may  be  easily  traced. 

211.  Hardicanute  —  or  Harthacanute,  a  brutal  king  of  the  Danish 
line  in  England  (1040-1042)  who  died  of  hard  drinking. 

223.  twice  winded.  (See  Introduction,  "Suggested  Emenda- 
tions.") 

230.  And  here  we  cannot  but  think,  etc.  The  remainder  of 
this  chapter,  beginning  with  these  words,  were  added  by  Scott  after 
the  story  was  completed  in  its  first  form. 

231.  the  industrious  Henry.  Scott  cites  Henry's  "  History  of 
Great  Britain,"  edit.  1805,  Vol.  VII.,  p.  346.  The  original  of  the 
quotation  is  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle  of  the  year  1137.  It  is 
quoted  also  by  Green.  (See  "  Short  History,"  Chapter  II. ,  Section 
VII.) 

231.  the  Princess  Matilda.  (See  Green's  "Short  History," 
Chapter  II.,  Section  VI.),  for  an  account  of  this  experience  of 
Matilda.     She  died  in  1118. 

232.  Eadmer.  A  monk  of  Canterbury  whose  "  Historia  Novo- 
rurn"  and  "Life  of  Anselm  "  are  the  chief  historical  sources  for 
the  reign  of  William  Second. 


510  NOTES. 

233.  Zernebock,  or  Czernibog,  a  demon.  Mr.  Freeman  in  the 
Norman  Conquest  calls  him  "  a  Sclavonic  idol,"  and  points  out  the 
incongruity  in  Scott's  use  of  the  name. 

238.  Most  Christian  king.  A  title  conferred  upon  various 
French  kings  from  very  early  times. 

241.  arms  reversed.  Said  of  the  coat  of  arms  when  the  design 
was  inverted  or  made  to  face  in  the  direction  contrary  to  the  usual 
one.     Here  assumed  to  be  a  sign  of  dishonor. 

245.  St.  Niobe.  "I  wish  the  Prior  had  also  informed  them 
when  Niobe  was  sainted.  Probably  during  that  enlightened  period 
when  '  Pan  to  Moses  lent  his  pagan  horn.'  "  —  Scott. 

253.  a  poor  brother  of  the  Order  of  St.  Francis.  A  member  of 
the  Order  of  Franciscans,  named  from  St.  Francis  of  Assisi.  The 
Order  was  not  founded  until  1210.  The  Franciscans  first  came  to 
England  in  1226. 

262.  Thou  the  daughter  of  Torquil  Wolf  ganger!  This  anach- 
ronism has  been  noted  in  the  note  on  p.  209. 

266.  and  yet  retain  the  power  to  prevent.  (See  Introduction, 
"  Suggested  Emendations.") 

296.    "  The  quiver  rattleth,"  etc.     (See  Job  xxxiv.  23.) 

298.  a  bar  of  iron,  etc.  A  writer  in  the  Quarterly  Beview 
accused  Scott  of  false  heraldry  in  this  device,  since  it  was  not 
allowed  to  charge  metal  upon  metal.  Scott  defends  the  device  in 
one  of  the  notes  appended  to  the  1829  edition  of  "  Ivan  hoe." 

301.  The  outer  barrier  of  the  barbican.  "Every  Gothic  castle 
and  city  had,  beyond  the  outer  walls,  a  fortification  composed  of 
palisades,  called  the  barriers,  which  were  often  the  scene  of  severe 
skirmishes,  as  these  must  necessarily  be  carried  before  the  walls 
themselves  could  be  approached.  Many  of  those  valiant  feats  of 
arms  which  adorn  the  chivalrous  pages  of  Froissart  took  place  at 
the  barriers  of  besieged  places."  —  Scott. 

330.  Whet  the  bright  steel.  ' '  It  will  readily  occur  to  the  anti- 
quary that  these  verses  are  intended  to  imitate  the  antique  poetry 
of  the  scalds,  the  minstrels  of  the  old  Scandinavians.  .  .  .  The 
poetry  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  after  their  civilization  and  conversion, 
was  of  a  different  and  softer  character ;  but  in  the  circumstances 
of  Ulrica,  she  may  be  not  unnaturally  supposed  to  return  to  the 
wild  strains  which  animated  her  forefathers  during  the  time  of 
Paganism  and  untamed  ferocity."  — Scott. 

331.  Chapter  XXXII.  The  second  volume  closed  with  Chapter. 
XXXI. 


NOTES.  511 

351.  But  when  churchman  and  layman,  etc.  For  a  most  inter- 
esting comparison,  see  "The  Merchant  of  Venice,"  I.  iii.  112-130. 

353.  thou  wilt  have  six  hundred  crowns,  etc.  Isaac  puts  the 
Prior's  ransom  at  six  hundred,  the  Prior  Isaac's  at  a  thousand, 
crowns.  Locksley  offers  to  take  the  Jew  at  one  hundred  crowns 
lower  than  the  Prior  —  five  hundred  crowns.  Isaac  will  therefore 
have  ./we,  not  six,  hundred  crowns  remaining.     (See  p.  355.) 

359.  hedge-priest,  the  outlaw's  chaplain.  "It  is  curious  to 
observe  that,  in  every  state  of  society,  some  sort  of  ghostly  con- 
solation is  provided  for  the  members  of  the  community,  though 
assembled  for  purposes  diametrically  opposite  to  religion.  .  .  . 
Hence  the  fighting  parson  in  the.  old  play  of  Sir  John  Oldcastle, 
and  the  famous  friar  of  Robin  Hood's  band.  Nor  were  such  char- 
acters ideal.  There  exists  a  monition  of  the  Bishop  of  Durham 
against  irregular  churchmen  of  this  class,  who  associated  them- 
selves with  Border  robbers,  and  desecrated  the  holiest  offices  of 
the  priestly  function  by  celebrating  them  for  the  benefit  of  thieves, 
robbers,  and  murderers,  amongst  ruins  and  in  caverns  of  the  earth, 
without  regard  to  canonical  form,  and  with  torn  and  dirty  attire, 
and  maimed  rites,  altogether  improper  for  the  occasion."  —  Scott. 

363.  bloody  with  spurring,  etc.  The  line  in  "Richard  II.." 
II.  iii.  58,  reads  :  "  Bloody  with  spurring,  fiery-red  with  haste.'''' 

365.  the  archbishop  is  my  sworn  brother.  "  The  Archbishop  of 
York  at  this  time  was  Geoffrey,  a  half-brother  of  Richard  and 
John." — Perry's  "Ivanhoe."  Sworn  brothers  were  companions 
in  arms  who,  according  to  the  laws  of  chivalry,  vowed  to  share 
their  dangers  or  successes  with  each  other. 

366.  your  sire  Henry.  Henry  I.  was  the  grandfather  of  John 
and  Richard. 

368.  Tracy,  Morville,  etc.  "  Reginald  Fitzurse,  William  de 
Tracy,  Hugh  de  Morville,  and  Richard  Brito,  were  the  gentlemen 
of  Henry  the  Second's  household,  who,  instigated  by  some  passion- 
ate expressions  of  their  sovereign,  slew  Thomas-a-Becket. "  —  Scott. 

372.  Preceptories,  Commanderies.  "  The  establishments  of  the 
Knights  Templars  were  called  Preceptories,  and  the  title  of  those 
who  presided  in  the  Order  was  Preceptor ;  as  the  principal  Knights 
of  St.  John  were  termed  Commanders,  and  their  houses  Command- 
eries. But  these  terms  were  sometimes,  it  would  seem,  used  indis- 
criminately." —  Scott. 


512  NOTES. 

373.     extended  his  glove.     David  really  says:    "To  Edom  will 
I  cast  my  shoe  "  (as  to  a  slave).     (See  Psalms  lx.  8  and  cviii.  9.) 
373.     fiery  furnace,  etc.     (See  Daniel  iii.  19.) 

375.  the  rule  of  St.  Bernard.  The  statutes  governing  the 
Order  of  Templars  were  drawn  up  under  the  supervision  of  Ber- 
nard of  Clairvaux. 

376.  Temple  Church.  (See  Glossary.)  This  church  contains, 
among  tombs  of  many  famous  Templars,  that  of  William  de 
Mareschal,  who  died  in  1219,  and  that  of  Robert  de  Ros,  who 
died  in  1227.     Note  the  dates. 

376.  Ut  leo  semper,  etc.  "In  the  ordinances  of  the  Knights 
of  the  Temple,  this  phrase  is  repeated  in  a  variety  of  forms,  and 
occurs  in  almost  every  chapter,  as  if  it  were  the  signal  word  of  the 
order,  which  may  account  for  its  being  so  frequently  put  in  the 
Grand  Master's  mouth."  — Scott. 

378.  the  streaks  of  leprosy.  "See  the  13th  chapter  of  Leviti- 
cus." —  Scott. 

378.     the  brand  of  Phineas.     Numbers  xxv. 

386.  the  ten  thousand  virgins.  There  is  a  legend  that  eleven 
thousand  virgins,  returning  from  a  pilgrimage  to  Rome  with  St. 
Ursula  as  leader,  were  killed  by  the  Huns  at  Cologne.  A  collec- 
tion of  bones,  still  preserved  in  the  Church  of  St.  Ursula  at 
Cologne,  is  shown  as  those  of  the  martyred  virgins. 

396.  Holy  Saint  Bernard,  etc.  "  The  reader  is  referred  to  the 
Rules  of  the  Poor  Military  Brotherhood  of  the  Temple,  which  occur 
in  the  '  Works  of  St.  Bernard.'  "  —  Scott. 

402.  Nathan  ben  Samuel.  Samuel  is  obviously  a  slip  for 
Israel.     (See  pp.  371  and  372.) 

414.     Benoni  instead  of  Rebecca.     Rebecca  means  "  of  enchant- 

* 

ing  beauty  "  ;  Benoni,  "son  (child)  of  my  sorrow."    (See  Genesis' 
xxxv.  18.) 

418.     Babel's  streams.     See  Psalm  cxxxvii.  1. 

424.  Conrade  Marquis  of  Montserrat.  A  Crusader  who  was 
chosen  king  of  Jerusalem  in  1192. 

446.  Robin  Hood  of  Sherwood  Forest.  This  ballad  hero  was 
doubtless  a  legendary  character  —  a  type  outlaw.  The  dates  of 
the  exploits  celebrated  in  the  ballads  are  very  uncertain.  For  his 
own  purposes  Scott  makes  him  the  leader  of  a  gang  of  Saxon  out- 
laws. Various  other  dates  are  assigned.  The  first  mention  of 
Robin   Hood   is  in  Langland's   "Vision  of   Piers   Ploughman" 


NOTES.  513 

about  1377.  Barnesdale  and  Sherwood  Forest,  both  in  the  West 
Riding  of  Yorkshire,  are  associated  with  him  in  the  ballads. 

"From  the  ballads  of  Robin  Hood  we  learn  that  this  celebrated 
outlaw  when  in  disguise  sometimes  assumed  the  name  of  Locksley 
from  a  village  where  he  was  born,  but  where  situated  we  are  not 
told."  —  Scott. 

455.  Little  John.  Robin  Hood's  trusty  lieutenant  and  tried 
friend.  It  must  have  taken  real  self-denial  on  Scott's  part  to  send 
him  to  Scotland  during  the  action  of  this  story. 

457.  as  its  Saxon  name  implies.  Coningsburgh  —  Cyninges- 
burh — King's  castle.  A  note  by  Scott  to  the  1829  "Ivanhoe" 
treats  of  its  architecture.  (See  any  full  edition  of  the  story,  or  the 
Appendix  to  Perry's  "  Ivanhoe.") 

463.  To  this  all  must.  The  omission  of  the  verb  come  gives 
this  passage  an  antique  flavor.  The  custom  is  rather  Elizabethan, 
however,  than  Anglo-Saxon. 

464.  the  realms  of  woe  —  that  sad  place.    Purgatory. 

467.  burst  his  cerements.  In  the  use  of  this  phrase  and  in  the 
"  say  for  what  cause  thou  dost  revisit  us,"  etc.,  there  is  an  unmis- 
takable reminiscence  of  "  Hamlet,"  I.  iv.  48  and  53. 

474.  "  The  resuscitation  of  Athelstane  has  been  much  criticised, 
as  too  violent  a  breach  of  probability  even  for  a  work  of  such  fan- 
tastic character.  It  was  a  tour-de-force,  to  which  the  author  was 
compelled  to  have  recourse  by  the  vehement  entreaties  of  his 
friend  and  printer,  who  was  inconsolable  on  the  Saxon  being  con- 
veyed to  the  tomb."  —  Scott. 

475.  a  meeting  of  radical  reformers.  Scott's  dislike  for  the 
reformers  of  his  day,  and  his  contempt  for  the  crowd,  are  two  of 
the  few  general  opinions  he  reflects  in  the  story. 

490.  your  ladies  are  but  sunburned.  Your  ladies  are  dark,  and 
therefore  not  beautiful  enough  to  fight  for. 

490.     The  multitude  like  a  timid  cur.     (See  note  lor  p.  475.) 

497.  Ephraim  is  an  heartless  dove,  etc.  (See  Hosea  vii.  11,  and 
Genesis  xlix.  14.)  Rebecca  would  say  that  through  oppression  her 
people  have  lost  both  strength  and  courage. 

500.  Charles  XII.  of  Sweden  after  a  brilliant  military  career 
was  killed  in  battle  in  1718.  The  lines  are  from  Johnson's  "The 
Vanity  of  Human  Wishes."  In  the  first  Scott  has  substituted  for- 
eign for  barren,  and  in  the  second  humble  for  dubious.  He  has 
also  emphasized  tale  in  the  last  line  to  make  it  refer  to  ''  Ivanhoe." 

2l 


GLOSSARY. 


The  definitions  are  mainly  taken  or  adapted  from  the  Century  Dictionary.    This 
authority  is  referred  to  as  "  0."  in  the  brackets. 

Abacus,  the  mystic  staff  carried  by  the  Grand  Master  of  the  Tem- 
plars, 375. 
Abbey-stede,  an  estate  in  land  belonging  to  an  abbey,  350. 
Agraffe,  an  ornamental  clasp  or  hook,  75. 

Ahithophel,  a  Hebrew  politician,  the  counsellor  of  King  David,  362. 
A  la  rescousse.    To  the  rescue!  299. 
Alderman.     In  early  England  a  title  meaning  simply  chieftain  or  lorcv 

26,  79,  256,  etc. 
Anathema  Maranatha,  a  phrase  taken  from  1  Corinthians  xvi.  22, 

used  as  an  intense  form  of  anathema  —  accursed;  a  formal  curse, 

397.     [C,  anathema.] 
Anchoret,  anchorite,  a  religious  recluse,  differing  from  a  hermit  in 

the  greater  severity  of  his  privations,  17,  166,  198,  etc. 
Apollyon,  a  name  given  in  Revelation  ix.  2,  to  the  angel  of  the  bottom- 
less pit,  245,  462. 
Arblast.     The  arblast  was  a  cross-bow,  the  windlace  the  machine  used 

in  bending  that  weapoD,  and  the  quarrell .  .  .  was  the  bolt  adapted 

to  it.  —  Scott,  294,  376.     [C] 
Arbor,  a  hunting  term,  signifying  the  heart,  liver,  and  lungs  of  the 

deer,  44. 
Arrant,  notorious,  downright,  114.     [C,  arrant  and  errant.] 
Arrets,  decrees,  edicts,  20. 
Asper,  a  Turkish  coin  of  small  value,  413. 
Assoilzie,  to  acquit,  to  forgive,  303. 

Auferte  malum  ex  vobis,  remove  the  evil  thing  from  you,  397. 
Ave,   a  devotion   or   prayer,   called   from    its   opening  word,    "  Ave 

Maria,"  165,  279. 
Aymer  Pr.  S.  M.  Jorvolciensis.  Aymer  Prior  Sancti  Monasterii  Jorvol- 

ciensis,  Prior  of  the  Holy  Monastery  of  Jorvaulx,  382. 
Baldric,  a  belt  or  scarf,  generally  worn  over  the  shoulders,  crossing 

the  body  diagonally,  either  as  ornament,  or  as  support  for  a  sword, 

dagger,  or  horn,  14,  72,  139,  etc. 

514 


GLOSSARY.  515 

Barbed,  clad  in  armor ;  said  of  a  war-horse,  103. 

Barbican,  an  outwork  of  a  castle  or  fortified  place,  207,  213,  269,  etc. 

Barret-cap,  a  military  cap  or  headpiece,  479. 

Barrow,  a  burial  mouud,  457. 

Bartisan,  a  small  overhanging  turret,  or  projecting  parapet,  236,  240, 

296,  etc.    [C,  bartizan.] 
Basta !  Enough !  No  matter !  257. 
Batoon,  a  club  or  staff ;  a  baton,  243. 

Bauble,  a  sort  of  sceptre  or  staff  of  office  carried  by  a  jester,  258,  437. 
Beaver.     In  English  armor  the  movable  protection  for  the  lower  part 

of  the  face,  436. 
Beccaficoes,  small  birds,  warblers,  supposed  to  peck  figs;  hence  the 

name,  149. 
Becket,  by  the  bones  of,  137.     (See  St.  TJiomas.) 
Beech-mast,  the  mast  or  nuts  of  the  beech  tree,  7. 
Belial,  man  of,  one  wholly  evil,  or  inspired  by  the  devil,  277,  414,  439. 
Benedicite,  mes  fils,  bless  you,  my  sons,  16. 
Bested,  placed,  situated,  131,  340.     [C] 

Bevis,  Sir,  a  famous  mediaeval  hero  of  Arthurian  romance,  364. 
Bewray,  betray,  366. 
Biggin,  a  baby's  cap,  271. 
Bill.     In  earliest  English  use,  a  kind  of  broadsword,  45.    Later,  a 

weapon  consisting  of  a  broad  hook-shaped  blade  having  a  short 

pike  at  the  end,  fixed  to  a  long  handle.    The  same  as  brown-bill, 

181,  335. 
Black-letter  garlands,  collections  of  ballads  or  other  poems  printed 

in  black-letter,  or  Gothic,  type,  456. 
Black  sanctus,  a  profane  or  burlesque  hymn,  198.     [C,  sanctus.] 
Bolts,  arrows,  especially  for  cross-bows,  110,  278,  405. 
Borrows.     "Borghs,"   or  "borrows,"   signifies  pledges.     Hence   our 

word  "borrow"  because  we  pledge  ourselves  to  restore  what  is 

lent.  — Scott,  350. 
Bosses,  studs  or  knobs,  463. 

Bow-hand,  on  the,  on  the  wrong  side ;  wrongly,  36. 
Brawn,  boar's  flesh  pickled,  78. 
Breviary,  a  book  of  prayers  or  services,  268,  474. 
Bride  of  the  Canticles.   The  beautiful  woman  celebrated  in  the  Song 

of  Songs,  75. 
Bull-beggar,  a  hobgoblin,  a  scarecrow,  275. 
Bull  of  the  Holy  See,  an  edict  issued  by  the  Pope,  277. 
Bulls  of  Bashan.    Bashan  was  a  rich  district  of  Palestine  east  of  the 

Jordan,  110.     (Psalm  xxii.  12.) 
Bundle  of  myrrh,  a  term  used  in  praise  of  a  beautiful  woman  in  the 

Song  of  Songs,  i.  13. 


516  GLOSSARY. 

Burden,  an  underpart  or  accompaniment  to  a  song;  to  bear  a  burden, 
to  sing  such  a  part,  267,  437. 

Burrel  cloth,  a  kind  of  coarse  cloth,  375. 

Butt  of  sack,  a  large  cask  of  light  coarse  wine,  449,  498. 

Byzant,  a  gold  coin  of  Byzantium,  worth  from  three  to  five  dollars,  75, 
270,  281,  etc. 

Cabal,  a  number  of  persons  united  for  a  purpose,  usually  an  intrigue, 
155.     [C,  cabal*.] 

Cabalist,  one  versed  in  cabala,  or  mystic  philosophy  of  the  Jews,  112 ; 
cabalistical,  282,  383,  404. 

Caftaned,  clad  in  a  caftan,  a  kind  of  long  loose  robe,  tied  about  the 
waist  with  a  girdle,  286. 

Can,  know,  349.    "  I  can  well  of  woodcraft." 

Canary,  a  wine  made  in  the  Canary  Islands,  171. 

Canon,  as  an  ecclesiastical  term,  an  authoritative  law  or  rule  of  doc- 
trine or  discipline,  33. 

Cap-a-pie,  from  head  to  foot,  83,  479. 

Capital,  chapter,  377,  385,  etc. 

Capul.  a  horse,  a  work  horse,  413. 

Caracole,  n.  A  semi-round  or  half-turn  which  a  horseman  makes,  74; 
caracole,  v.  to  prance,  73. 

Cardecu,  an  old  French  silver  coin,  a  quarter-crown,  346. 

Cartel,  a  letter  of  defiance,  a  challenge,  246,  248. 

Cassock,  a  cloak  or  coat,  194,  200,  etc. 

Cast,  a  specimen,  a  turn,  a  touch,  268. 

Cave,  adsum.  Beware,  I  am  here,  91. 

Cerements,  grave-clothes,  467.    ("  Hamlet,"  I.  iv.  48.) 

Chamfron,  the  armor  for  the  front  of  the  head  of  a  war-horse,  14, 131. 

Chapter,  a  council,  or  assembly  of  monks,  160,  489,  etc. 

Chapter-house,  a  room  in  which  a  Chapter  meets,  208. 

Chian  wine,  wine  produced  in  Chios,  21. 

Chief  Captain  of  Jerusalem,  311.     (See  Acts  xxii.  28.) 

Churl,  in  early  English,  one  of  the  lowest  class  of  freemen ;  later,  a 
rude  or  ill-tempered  person,  20,  etc.    [C] 

Clerk,  a  man  in  holy  orders,  a  scholar,  169,  etc.     [C] 

Close,  a  piece  of  land,  usually  enclosed  by  hedge  or  fence,  311. 

Cloth-yard  shaft,  an  arrow  having  the  length  of  a  yard,  cloth-measure  ; 
the  longest  shaft  ever  used  in  European  archery,  299,  308. 

Clout,  the  mark  fixed  in  the  centre  of  the  target  at  which  archers 
shoot,  142. 

Cluster  of  camphire,  a  term  used  in  praise  of  a  beautiful  woman ;  in 
the  authorized  version  of  the  Song  of  Songs,  now  properly  trans- 
lated "  a  cluster  of  henna-flowers,"  137. 

Cnicht,  an  attendant  or  servant,  a  man-at-arms,  246.     [C,  knight.] 


GLOSSARY.  517 

Cockle-shell,  a  sea-shell  used  as  the  badge  of  a  pilgrim,  34. 

Cock's-comb,  coxcomb,  a  fool's  cap,  also  a  fop,  192,  258. 

Collop,  a  slice  of  meat,  351. 

Composition,  a  mutual  settlement  or  agreement,  309. 

Confiteor,  I  confess,  447. 

Cope,  a  large  mantle  or  cloak,  generally  a  priest's  garment,  33,  347. 

Counterpoise,  a  weight  which  helps  to  raise  the  drawbridge,  320. 

Cri  de  guerre,  war-cry,  45. 

Crisping-tongs,  an  instrument  used  to  curl  the  hair,  348. 

Crook,  a  shepherd's  staff ;  a  symbol  of  the  pastor's  or  priest's  office,  251. 

Crosier,  a  bishop's  pastoral  staff ;  a  symbol  of  the  bishop's  power  as 

the  sceptre  is  of  the  king's,  447. 
Cross,  any  coin  bearing  the  representation  of  the  cross,  75. 
Cross-bow,  110,  etc.     (See  arblast.) 
Crowd,  an  ancient  Welsh  and  Irish  musical  instrument  of  the  viol 

kind,  458. 
Crowder.  one  who  plays  on  the  crowd,  a  wandering  minstrel,  227,  342. 
Crown,  French,  a  small  gold  coin,  248. 
Curee,  a  hunting  term  —  the  portion  of  the  de:r  given  to  the  hounds. 

44.     [C,  quarry4.] 
Curfew,  the  ringing  of  a  bell  at  an  early  hour  of  the  evening  as  a  sig- 
nal for  extinguishing  fires  and  lights ;  said  to  have  been  introduced 
into  England  by  William  the  Conqueror,  29. 
Curtal,  cut  short.     "Curtal  friar"  —  generally  explained  as  a  friar 

wearing  a  short  gown,  333,  342,  etc. 
Cypress,  a  thin  transparent  fabric,  like  crape,  462. 
Damascene  carving,  a  method  of  ornamenting  metal,  by  inlaying  or 
stamping,  so  as  to  produce  a  pattern  like  damask,  14.     [C,  dam- 
askeen!] 
Danger,  power,  domain ;  hence,  ability  to  injure,  "  stands  in  thy  dan- 
ger," 63.     ("  The  Merchant  of  Venice,"  IV.  i.  180.) 
Daniel  in  the  den  of  lions,  373,  414.     (See  Daniel  vi.) 
Death-meal  and  dole,  funeral  feast  and  alms,  477. 
De  Civitate  Dei,  "  Of  the  City  of  God,"  276. 

De  commilitonibus  Templi  in  sancta  civitate,  etc.,  concerning  the 
knights  in  the  holy  order  of  the  Templars  who  associate  with 
abandoned  women,  etc.,  386. 
De  facto,  king,  the  reigning  king,  195. 

De  Lectione  Literarum,  concerning  the  reading  of  letters,  381. 
Deliver,  report,  372. 

Demi-courbette,  a  half  leap  (of  a  horse),  328. 
Demi-volte,  a  motion  of  the  horse  in  which  he  makes  a  half  turn  with 

the  fore-legs  raised,  18,  89. 
De  osculis  fugiendis,  concerning  the  avoiding  of  kisses,  397. 


518  GLOSSARY. 

De  profundis  clamavi,  out  of  the  depths  have  I  called,  199.  (Psalm 
cxxx.  1.) 

Derring-do,  desperate  courage.  —  Scott,  303. 

Derry-down,  a  meaningless  refrain  or  chorus.  "  The  chorus  of  c  deny 
down '  is  supposed  to  be  as  ancient  as  .  .  .  the  times  of  the 
Druids,  and  to  have  furnished  the  chorus  to  the  hymns  of  those 
venerable  persons  when  they  went  to  the  wood  to  gather  mistle- 
toe."—Scott,  177. 

Desdichado,  a  Spanish  word  meaning  not  "disinherited,"  but  "un- 
fortunate," 87, 127. 

Despardieux,  a  stronger  form  of  "  par  Dieu,"  by  God,  238,  269. 

Destrier,  a  war-horse,  433.     [C,  destrer.] 

Deus  faciat  salvam  benignitatem  vestram,  God  save  your  reverence, 
348. 

Deus  vobiscum,  God  be  with  you,  276  (when  it  means  a  priest),  328. 

Devoir,  duty,  411,  486. 

Did  on,  put  on,  200. 

Dingle,  a  wooded  hollow,  192. 

Disforested,  freed  from  the  restrictions  of  forest  laws,  36. 

Dogs  of  Ishmael  and  of  Edom.  Isaac's  contemptuous  name  for  Chris- 
tians.    Ishmael  and  Edom  were  the  hereditary  foes  of  the  Jew. 

Doit,  a  small  Dutch  coin ;  any  trifling  sum,  271. 

Dortour,  a  dormitory.  —  Scott,  356. 

Drinc  hael,  "  I  drink  your  health,"  172,  461. 

Emir,  among  Mohammedan  peoples,  a  chief  of  a  family  or  tribe, 
377. 

En  avant,  forward  !  299. 

En  croupe,  behind  the  saddle,  60. 

Enlargement,  a  setting  at  large  or  at  liberty,  222. 

Equerry,  an  officer  in  the  household  of  a  prince  or  noble,  who  has  the 
superintendence  of  the  horses,  444. 

Escutcheon,  the  surface,  usually  shield-shaped,  upon  which  armorial 
bearings  are  inscribed ;  used  as  a  symbol  of  honor,  83. 

Essoine,  Essoine  signifies  excuse,  and  here  relates  to  the  appellant's 
privilege  of  appearing  by  her  champion  in  excuse  of  her  own  per- 
son, on  account  of  her  sex.  —  Scott,  411,  482. 

Estrada,  an  elevated  part  of  the  floor ;  a  raised  platform,  107. 

Et  vobis;  quseso,  domine  reverendissime,  etc.,  "And  with  you;  I 
beg,  most  reverend  father,  for  your  pity,"  259. 

Eumseus,  a  swineherd  in  the  Odyssey,  10,  58. 

Exceptis  excipiendis,  "  exceptions  being  excepted,"  178. 

Excommunicabo  vos,  I  will  excommunicate  you  (exclude  you  from 
the  church) ,  347. 

Faire  le  moulinet,  to  play  the  windmill,  119 


GLOSSARY.  519 

Faites  vos  devoirs,  preux  chevaliers,  "  Do  your  duty,  brave  knights,' 
486. 

Falchion,  a  short,  broad  sword,  436. 

Fanners,  implements  for  separating,  by  fanning,  the  chaff  from  the 
wheat  in  the  threshing,  381.     (Matt.  iii.  12.) 

Farrier,  a  smith  who  combines  the  art  of  shoeing  horses  with  the  pro- 
fession of  veterinary  surgeon,  69. 

Fetterlock,  in  heraldry,  a  shackle  or  bolt,  299,  etc. 

Fiat  voluntas  tua,  thy  will  be  done,  487. 

Fief,  an  estate  held  by  grace  of  a  superior  on  condition  of  military  or 
other  service,  135. 

Field  sable,  said  of  a  heraldic  device  in  which  the  field  or  main  sur- 
face of  the  escutcheon  is  black,  303. 

File  your  tongue,  speak  more  gently  or  smoothly,  21. 

First  strike,  full  measure ;  ale  of  the  first  strike  is  that  which  has  had 
its  full  allowance  of  malt,  and  is  strong,  449. 

Folk-free  and  sacless,  a  lawful  freeman.  —  Scott,  335. 

Foot-cloth,  a  large  housing  or  covering  of  a  horse,  indicating  dignity 
or  state,  12. 

Fork-headed  shafts,  arrows  whose  heads  have  two  points  directed 
forward,  248. 

Franklin,  a  landowner  of  some  wealth  and  dignity,  2,  17. 

Fructus  Temporum  (fruit  of  the  Times),  a  book  of  chronicles,  434. 

Gaberdine,  a  long,  loose  cloak,  generally  coarse,  distinctively  worn  by 
the  Jews,  50,  60,  65. 

Gammon  of  bacon,  the  cured  thigh  of  a  hog ;  a  ham,  42,  58,  318. 

Gare  le  Corbeau,  Beware  the  raven. 

Gear,  matters,  affairs ;  holy  gear,  religious  ceremonies,  256. 

Ghostly,  spiritual,  252,  254,  258,  etc. 

Gideon,  a  great  Jewish  warrior  and  deliverer,  305. 

Glaive,  a  lance  or  spear ;  later,  a  broadsword,  181. 

Gleeman,  a  strolling  minstrel,  175. 

Gorget,  a  piece  of  armor  protecting  the  throat  and  upper  part  of  the 
breast,  21 ;  a  necklace,  6. 

Gospel  of  St.  Nicodemus,  a  spurious  writing  reputed  to  have  been 
written  by  Nicodemus,  348. 

Grace-cup,  a  cup  from  which  the  last  draught  was  drunk  at  table, 
being  passed  from  guest  to  guest,  49. 

Gramercy,  many  thanks,  65,  88,  etc.  (grand  merci). 

Grange,  a  farming  establishment,  a  farm-house,  227,  434.     [C] 

Gray-goose  shaft,  an  arrow,  254,  444,  etc. 

Guild-brother,  free,  a  freeman,  who  belonged  to  a  guild,  113,  416. 

Guilder,  a  piece  of  money  of  value  less  than  fifty  cents,  110. 

Gust,  enjoyment,  relish,  458. 


520  GLOSSARY. 

Guy,  Sir,  of  Warwick,  a  legendary  hero  of  English  romance,  364. 
Gymmal  ring,  a  ring  made  up  of  two  or  more  circlets  so  put  together 

that  they  can  be  separated  into  as  many  rings,  347. 
Hacqueton,  a  quilted  vest  of  leather  or  thick  cloth  worn  under  the 

coat  of  mail  to  save  the  body  from  chafing  and  bruises,  280. 
Halberd,  a  broad  blade  with  sharp  edges  and  point, mounted  on  a  long 

handle,  317,  344.     (See  plate  facing  406/ 
Half  ling,  a  half  penny,  50. 

Halidom,  holiness,  sanctity,  sacred  honor,  80,  160. 
Harrying,  despoiling,  robbing,  267.     [C] 
Hatchment,  a  tablet  bearing  the  arms  of  a  deceased  person,  placed 

over  his  tomb;  funeral  honors,  304. 
Hauberk,  a  long  coat  of  mail,  coming  below  the  knees,  5. 
Hedge-priest,  a  mean  or  illiterate  priest,  359,  458,  etc.     (See  Notes.) 
Hengist  and  Horsa,  joint  founders  of  the  kingdom  of  Kent.    They 

were  Jute  chieftains  and  landed  in  England  about  211  —  331,  449, 
Heptarchy,  a  name  loosely  given  to  the  early  English  kingdoms,  before 

they  were  consolidated,  20. 
Hereward,  an  English  outlaw  and  patriot,  who  defended  Ely  against 

the  Conqueror,  20. 
Hership,  pillage.  — Scott,  30. 
Hide  of  land,  a  tract  of  fifty  or  sixty  acres,  335. 
Hilding,  a  mean,  worthless  person,  279,  346. 
Hind,  a  laborer,  a  peasant,  3,  226. 

Horn,  exalted,  an  Old  Testament  symbol  of  honor  or  power,  291. 
Hotspur,  Henry  Percy,  called  Hotspur,  killed  in  battle  in  1403.    He 

appears  in  Shakespeare's  "  Henry  IV.,"  Part  I.,  187. 
Houghed,  hamstrung,  having  the  sinew  of  the  hock  cut  (of  a  horse) ,  447. 
Houri,  a  nymph  of  the  Mohammedan  Paradise,  21,  75. 
Hur*s,  a  comic  representation  of  a  Welshman's  "  he  was,"  438. 
Hutch,  a  kind  of  trough,  55 ;  a  chest  or  bin,  170. 
Ichabod,  a  Hebrew  word  meaning  no  glory,  or  the  glory  has  departed, 

353.     (1  Samuel  iv.  21.)    ' 
Ifrin,  a  word  for  hell,  perhaps  from  Ifurin,  the  hell  of  the  ancient 

Gauls,  259. 
In  flagrant  delict,  in  the  actual  commission  of  the  deed,  390 
Inter  res  sacras,  among  consecrated  things,  358. 
Invenientur  vigilantes,  let  them  be  found  watching,  382. 
Issachar,  one  of  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel,  497.     (Genesis  xlix.  14.' 
Jerkin,  a  short,  close-fitting  coat  or  jacket. 
Jonah,  gourd  of,  the  plant  miraculously  given  to  shelter  the  prophet, 

414.     (Jonah  iv.  5-11.) 
Kirtle,  a  garment  whose  form  and  purpose  varied  much ;  a  long,  close- 
fitting  gown  for  women,  28. 


GLOSSARY.  521 

Lac  acidum,  sour  milk,  39. 

Lac  dulce,  sweet  milk,  39. 

Lai,  lay,  a  song;  a  short  tale  in  verse,  174,  175. 

Laissez  aller,  let  go !  off!  127,486. 

Lancelot  de  Lac,  one  of  the  knights  of  the  Round  Table;  much  con- 
cerning him  will  be  found  in  Tennyson's  "  Idyls  of  the  King,"  3(37. 

Landes  of  Bordeaux,  a  stretch  of  sandy  plain  in  Bordeaux  covered 
with  heather  and  pine,  242. 

Languedoc,  an  ancient  province  of  southern  France,  named  from  the 
langue  cl'oc,  or  speech  used  there,  238. 

La  Keyne  de  la  Beaulte'  et  des  Amours,  the  queen  of  beauty  and  of 
love,  70. 

Largesse,  a  free  distribution  of  money;  a  gift,  16,  82,  etc. 

Latro  famosus,  a  notorious  robber,  352. 

Lawless  resolutes,  desperate  adventurers,  66.     ["  Hamlet,"  I.  i.  98.] 

Lay  lance  in  rest,  to  fight  in  the  lists.  The  "rest"  was  a  contriv- 
ance for  holding  the  lance  steady  when  it  was  in  position  for 
charging,  80,  407. 

Leaguer,  to  besiege,  293. 

Le  don  d'amoureux  merci,  "the  highest  favor  of  love."  —  Perry, 
388. 

Leech,  a  physician,  209,  402 ;  to  treat  as  a  physician,  180. 

Lee-gage,  the  safe  or  sheltered  side,  431. 

Leman,  a  sweetheart,  346. 

Levin-fire,  lightning,  343. 

Liard,  a  small  French  coin  (not  current  till  the  fifteenth  century),  334. 

Lily  of  the  vale  of  Baca,  237.     (Psalm  lxxxiv.  6.) 

Lincoln  green,  a  cloth  dyed  with  peculiar  excellence  at  Lincoln ;  the 
favorite  wear  of  woodsmen,  huntsmen,  and  outlaws,  72,  140,  etc. 

Lion  of  Idumea.  Idumea  was  another  name  for  Edom,  the  hereditary 
foe  of  Israel,  284. 

Long-bow,  the  bow  drawn  by  hand,  discharging  a  feathered  arrow, 
as  distinguished  from  the  cross-bow,  139,  etc. 

Lurcher,  a  sort  of  hunting  dog,  8. 

Maccabeus,  one  of  a  family  of  heroes,  deliverers  of  Judah,  175-164  B.C., 
305. 

Mace,  a  weapon  for  striking;  a  battle  club,  125.  [C]  (See  plate 
facing  329.) 

Mahound,  an  old  form  of  the  name  of  Mohammed,  21,  42. 

Mails,  travelling  bags,  269,  etc. 

Malison,  a  curse,  335. 

Malvoisie,  a  sweet  strong  wine  (same  as  malmsey),  278,  449. 

Mammocks,  fragments,  small  bits,  252. 

Manciple,  a  steward  ;  a  caterer  or  purveyor,  434. 


522  GLOSSARY. 

Mancus,  Anglo-Saxon  money  of  account,  about  sixty  cents  m  value, 

416,  462. 
Mangonel,  a  military  machine  for  throwing  stones,  267,  405. 
Man-sworn,  perjured,  466.     [C,  manswear.] 
Mantelets,  temporary  and  movable  defences  formed  of  planks,  under 

cover  of  which  the  assailants  advanced  to  the  attack  of  fortified 

places  of  old.  — Scott,  278. 
Manus  imponere  in  servos  Domini,  to  lay  hands  upon  the  servants 

of  the  Lord,  317. 
Maravedi,  a  Spanish  coin  of  considerable  value  in  the  eleventh  and 

twelfth  centuries;    later  the  smallest  denomination  of  Spanish 

money,  worth  about  a  quarter  of  a  cent,  356. 
Mark,  Anglo-Saxon  and  English  money  of  account,  three  and  a  quarter 

dollars  in  value,  75,  275 ;  merk,  114.    • 
Maroquin,  morocco,  goat's  leather,  74. 
Marry,  a  mild  oath ;  a  corruption  of  Mary,  19,  etc. 
Matins,  Matin-song,  morning  worship,  55,  432. 
Matin  chime,  morning  bell,  49. 
Maugre,  in  spite  of,  344,  492. 

Mead,  a  liquor  made  of  honey  and  water  with  a  ferment,  32. 
Melee,  a  hand-to-hand  fight  among  a  number  of  persons,  86. 
Mell,  to  interfere,  to  meddle,  344. 
Merry-men,  followers,  retainers,  149,  etc. 

Minion,  a  favorite,  135,  227,  etc. ;  also  a  term  of  contempt,  260. 
Minster,  a  monastery,  a  church,  275. 
Missal,  a  mass-book,  167,  463. 
Moat,  a  trench  often  filled  with  water,  around  a  castle  or  fortified 

place,  298,  etc. 
Moiety,  strictly  a  half ;  any  portion  or  share  of  the  whole,  104. 
Moloch,  a  form  of  the  god  Baal  worshipped  by  the  Canaanitish  tribes 

with  cruel  rites,  304. 
Mopping  and  mowing,  making  faces,  436. 
Morat,  a  drink  made  of  honey  flavored  with  the  juice  of  mulberries. 

—  Scott,  32. 
Morrion,  a  form  of  helmet  (not  used  in  England  before  the  sixteenth 

century) ,  442. 
Morris-dancer,  one  who  takes  part  in  a  dance  of  persons  in  comic  cos- 
tume ;  a  mummer,  348. 
Mort,  a  flourish  sounded  at  the  death  of  the  game  in  hunting,  44. 
Mort  de  ma  vie.    Death  of  my  life !  467. 
Mot.     The  notes  upon  the  bugles  were  anciently  called  mots,  and  are 

distinguished  in  the  old  treatises  on  hunting,  not  by  musical  charac- 
ters, but  by  written  words.  —  Scott,  340. 
Mould,  man  of,  man  of  character,  of  courage,  273. 


GLOSSARY.  523 

"  Mount  joye  St.  Denis,"  a  French  war-cry,  321. 

Mulled   heated  and  spiced  for  drinking,  as  wine  or  ale,  343. 

Mummery,  a  pantomime  by  maskers ;  hence  an  idle  show  or  perform- 
ance, 138,  157,  471. 

Murrain,  a  plague,  a  cattle  disease,  10. 

Muscadine,  a  sweet  wine,  97. 

Natheless,  nevertheless,  284. 

Nebulo  quidam,  this  good-for-nothing,  347. 

Necromancer,  a  conjurer,  a  wizard,  112. 

Neophyte,  a  beginner;  one  newly  admitted  to  an  order,  479. 

Nidering,  a  Saxon  term  of  contempt;  a  nobody,  151,  466. 

Noble,  an  old  English  gold  coin  worth  six  shillings,  eight  pence,  140, 144. 

Nombles,  a  hunting  term  —  the  entrails  of  the  deer,  44.    [C,  numbles.] 

Nonce,  always  used  in  the  phrase  "  for  the  nonce,"  which  means  "  for 
the  one  time,"  252. 

Nook  of  pasty,  a  portion  of  meat  pie,  174,  469. 

Noons,  the  midday  religious  service,  178. 

Noviciate,  the  time  of  an  apprentice,  or  neophyte,  379. 

Odin.  In  the  Norse  mythology  the  chief  of  the  gods ;  the  all-father, 
20,  260 ;  the  Anglo-Saxon  form  of  his  name  is  Woden. 

Og,  King  of  Bashan,  the  giant  king  of  Bashan,  a  district  of  Canaan, 
98.     (Deuteronomy  iii.  11.) 

Oubliette,  a  secret  dungeon,  468. 

Out-heroding.  In  the  old  mystery  plays  Herod  was  a  violent,  blus- 
tering person.  To  out-herod  Herod  was  to  be  more  noisy  and 
blustering  —  hence  to  be  excessive  in  any  particular,  72. 

Outlandish,  foreign,  14,  233. 

Outrecuidance,  presumption,  insolence.  — Scott,  101,  271. 

Over  God's  forbode,  God  forbid!  97. 

Oyez,  an  old  French  word  meaning  Hear !  used  to  call  attention  to  a 
proclamation,  481. 

Palfrey,  a  saddle  horse,  as  distinguished  from  a  war-horse,  12, 73, 74,  etc. 

Palmer,  a  pilgrim  to  the  Holy  Land  who  brought  back  a  palm  branch 
to  lay  upon  his  home  altar,  23,  etc. 

Pannier,  a  basket,  216. 

Par  amours,  illicitly,  238,  383. 

Parish-butt,  a  target  for  public  archery  trials,  308. 

Parted  in  time,  dead  by  a  natural  death,  313.  ("  2  Henry  VI.,"  III.  ii. 
161,  "  timely  parted.") 

Partisan,  a  long-handled  cutting  weapon,  203,  317,  etc.    [G.,partizan.] 

Passover,  a  Jewish  annual  religious  festival,  221. 

Pasty,  a  meat  pie,  170,  etc. 

Pater,  a  prayer,  called  from  its  opening  word,  "  Pater  noster,"  Our 
Father,  165,  179. 


524  GLOSS  A  BY. 

Paternoster,  48.     (See  pater.) 

Patter,  to  repeat  the  Lord's  prayer.     See  Pater.    Hence,  to  repeat  any 

prayer.     Pattered,  171,  278. 
Pavisse,  a  species  of  large  shield  covering  the  whole  person  of  the 

soldier  when  advancing  to  an  attack,  278. 
Pax  vobiscum,  "  Peace  be  with  you,"  a  priestly  salutation,  253,  etc. 
Paynim,  a  pagan,  a  heathen,  176,  etc. 
Penny  histories,  copies  of  ballads,  sold  for  a  penny,  447. 
Pent-house,  a  shed  or  sloping  roof  projecting  from  a  wall;  used  of 

overhanging  eyebrows  or  eyelids,  11.      [C,  pent-house  and   ap- 

p entice ;  also  "Macbeth,"  I.  iii.  20.] 
Periapt,  a  charm,  an  amulet,  383. 
Peril  of  thy  beard,  at  your  own  personal  risk,  112. 
Phineas,  the  brand  of,  the  sword  of  Phineas,  378.     (Numbers  xxv.) 
Pigment,  a  sweet  and  rich  liquor  composed  of  wine  highly  spiced,  and 

sweetened  also  with  honey.  —  Scott,  32. 
Pinfold,  parish,  a  public  pound,  in  which  stray  animals  are  confined, 

168. 
Points,  laces  used  in  the  place  of  buttons  to  hold  the  clothes  together ; 

"  Truss  my  points  "  =  "  Tie  my  laces,"  201. 
Pouch  up,  to  pocket,  to  submit  quietly  to,  359. 
Pouncet-box,  a  small  box  with  a  perforated  lid,  used  for  sprinkling 

powder  on  written  paper  to  prevent  blotting ;  also  a  perfume  box, 

348. 
Preceptory,  the  establishment  or  religious  house  of  the  Knights  Tem- 
plars, 238,  etc. 
Pricks  forth,  rides  out,  338. 
Primes,  the  devotions  belonging  to  the  early  part  of  the  day,  170,  209, 

435. 
Promise,  the,  the  assurance  given  to  Abraham  that  his  descendants 

should  be  the  chosen  people,  344. 
Propined,  offered,  guaranteed,  338. 
Propter  necessitatum  et  ad  frigus  depellendum,  in  case  of  necessity 

and  for  warding  off  cold,  350. 
Pursuivant,  a  messenger,  68. 
Pyet,  a  magpie,  346. 

Pyx,  the  box  or  vase  in  which  the  consecrated  bread  left  after  com- 
munion is  kept,  350. 
Quare  fremuerunt  gentes?  Why  do  the  heathen  rage?  489.    (Psalm  ii. 

1.) 
Quarrells,  294.     (See  arblast.) 

Quarter-staff,  an  old  English  weapon  formed  of  a  stout  pole  about 

six  feet  long,  10,  115,  etc. 
Quean,  a  worthless  woman,  386. 


GLOSSARY.  525 

Queen  of  Sheba,  the  famous  queen  who  came  to  test  the  wisdom  of 

Solomon,  238.     (1  Kings  x.) 
Quod  nullus  juxta  propriam  voluntatem  incedat,  that  no  one  shall 

walk  by  his  own  will,  397. 
Kabbah,  men  of,  men  of  a  town  of  the  Ammonites,  Rabbah,  conquered 

by  the  Jews,  57. 
Rascaille,  the  vulgar  herd,  279. 

Reason,  to  do,  to  give  satisfaction,  to  return  a  courtesy,  39,  etc. 
Recheat,  a  hunting  term  ;  the  notes  of  the  horn  that  recall  the  hounds, 

44,  349. 
Reliquary,  a  receptacle  for  a  sacred  relic;  often  small  enough  to  be 

carried  on  the  person,  38,  47,  485. 
Rere-supper,  a  night-meal,  and  sometimes  signified  a  collation  which 

was  given  at  a  late  hour,  after  the  regular  supper  had  made  its 

appearance.  —  Scott,  182. 
Rex  delectabitur  pulchritudine  tua,  the  king  shall  delight  in  thy 

beauty,  382. 
Rheum,  cold,  a  catarrhal  affection,  435. 
Riding,  West,  North,  East,  the  three  districts  into  which  Yorkshire  is 

divided ;  originally  West-thriding,  etc.,  "  thriding  "  being  "  a  third 

part,"  5,  162,  etc. 
Rod  of  Moses,  the  miraculous  staff  of  Exodus  iv.  and  vii.  65. 
Rood,  the  cross,  49,  etc. 
Rose  of  Sharon,  a  lily  of  the  valley,  terms  used  of  the  beautiful 

woman  of  the  Song  of  Songs  ii.  1,  75,  238. 
Rote,  a  sort  of  guitar,  or  rather  hurdy-gurdy,  the  strings  of  which 

were  managed  by  a  wheel,  from  which  the  instrument  took  its 

name,  458.  —  Scott.    Both  Scott's  description  of  the  instrument 

and  his  etymology  of  its  name  must  be  questioned.    (Skeat's  "  Ety- 
mological Dictionary,"  Rote'2.) 
Runagate,  a  corrupt  form  of  renegide,  142,  190,  268. 
Runlet,  a  small  barrel,  of  about  eighteen  gallonss  capacity,  171,  449. 
Russet,  coarse,  homespun  cloth,  the  distinctive  dress  of  a  friar,  252,  etc 
Sacring-bell,  a  bell  rung  at  certain  places  during  religious  services, 

especially  during  the  celebration  of  the  mass,  477. 
Sadducees,  a  school  of  Jewish  thinkers  who  denied  the  immortality 

of  the  soul,  483. 
Saint  Andrew's  day,  November  30,  one  of  the  regular  days  for  collect 

ing  tithes,  349. 
St.  Anthony,  an  Egyptian  abbot  (d.  about  251),  called  the  foundei 

of  asceticism,  184. 
St.  Augustine,  the  celebrated  Latin  Father  (d.  430),  276. 
St.  Bennet  (Benedict),  an  Italian  monk,  founder  of  the  Order  of  the 

Benedictines  (d.  543).  275. 


52()  GLOSSARY. 

St.  Bernard,  Abbot  of  Clairvaux  (d.  1153) ,  a  great  French  ecclesiastic, 
who  made  a  code  of  rules  for  the  government  of  the  Brethren  of 
the  Temple,  375,  etc. 

St.  Botolph,  an  English  monk  who  built  a  monastery  in  654  in  Lincoln- 
shire, at  a  place  now  called  "  Boston,"  from  his  name,  430. 

St.  Christopher,  a  martyr  of  the  third  century,  276,  279. 

St.  Denis  (Dennis),  the  patron  saint  of  France  (d.  272),  279. 

St.  Dubric,  a  Welsh  saint  of  the  sixth  century,  179.     (Perry.) 

St.  Dunstan,  an  archbishop  of  Canterbury  (d.  988),  9,  58,  165,  etc. 

St.  Edmund,  a  king  of  East  Anglia,  killed  by  the  Danes  about  870, 
184. 

St.  Edward,  King  Edward  the  Confessor  (d.  1066),  184. 

St.  Francis,  of  Assisi,  founder  of  the  Order  of  Franciscans  (d.  1226) 

St.  Genevieve,  the  patron  saint  of  the  city  of  Paris  (d.  512),  271. 

St.  George,  a  Christian  martyr  put  to  death  in  303.  Said  to  have  ap- 
peared miraculously  in  aid  of  the  Crusaders  at  Antioch,  1089.  The 
patron  of  England,  192. 

St.  Grizzle,  Patient  Griselda,  a  favorite  heroine  of  mediaeval  romauce, 
submissive  to  the  most  cruel  ordeals  at  her  husband's  hands ;  never 
canonized  by  the  church,  78. 

St.  Hermangild  (Hermenegild) ,  a  West  Gothic  prince,  put  to  death. 
585 ;  a  defender  of  the  true  faith,  342. 

St.  Hilda,  Abbess  of  Whitby  in  Yorkshire  (d.  680),  35. 

St.  Hubert,  a  bishop  of  Liege  (d.  727),  the  patron  saint  of  hunters,  139. 

St.  Jeremy  (Jerome),  a  father  of  the  Latin  church  (d.  420),  469. 

St.  Julian,  the  legendary  saint  of  travellers  and  of  hospitality,  164. 

St.  Magdalen,  the  woman  out  of  whom  Jesus  cast  seven  devils,  identi- 
fied wrongly  with  the  woman  who  bathed  and  anointed  the  feet 
of  Jesus  (Luke  vii.  37-50)  ;  never  canonized  by  the  church,  386. 

St.  Michael,  an  archangel  mentioned  in  the  Bible ;  the  fighting  angel, 
225,  248. 

St.  Nicholas,  a  bishop  of  Myra  (d.  about  300) ;  the  patron  of  sea- 
farers, thieves,  and  children  (Santa  Claus),  197. 

St.  Nicholas'  clerks,  robbers,  114,  442. 

St.  Robert,  Abbot  of  Molesme  (d.  1110),  founder  of  the  Order  of 
Cistercian  Friars,  354. 

St.  Thomas,  Thomas  of  Becket  or  a  Becket.  Thomas  of  Canterbury, 
St.  Thomas  of  Kent,  an  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  murdered  in 
his  cathedral,  in  1170, 154, 179,  251,  etc.  "By  the  bones  of  Becket," 
137. 

St.  Winibald,  an  English  saint  (d.  about  786),  one  of  the  missiona- 
ries to  the  Germans,  179. 

St.  Winifred,  Boniface  the  Great,  apostle  to  tbe  Germans ;  he  was  mur- 
dered in  755,  179. 


GLOSSARY.  527 

St.  Withold,  an  imaginary  saint,  probably  borrowed  by  Scott  from 
"  King  Lear,"  III.  iv.  7,  125,  159,  etc. 

Saladin,  a  famous  sultan  of  Egypt  and  Syria,  who  attempted  to  drive 
the  Christians  out  of  Palestine  and  who  captured  Jerusalem.  In 
1192  Richard  Coeur-de-Lion  forced  him  to  accept  a  truce  for  three 
years,  40. 

Sally-port,  a  name  applied  to  the  postern  leading  from  under  the  ram- 
part into  the  ditch,  269,  298. 

Salvage  or  silvan  man,  a  man  of  the  woods.  Salvage  is  an  old  form 
of  savage,  68. 

Sanctus,  black.     (See  black  sanctus.) 

Saracen,  a  name  given  by  the  later  Romans  and  Greeks  to  the  nomadic 
tribes  on  the  Syrian  border ;  in  the  Middle  Ages  applied  to  all  non- 
Christian  peoples  against  whom  a  crusade  was  preached,  19,  etc. 

Saracen  head,  an  ugly,  forbidding  countenance,  18. 

Sathanas,  Satan,  342. 

Scald,  an  ancient  Scandinavian  poet,  answering  to  the  bard  of  the 
Britons  and  Celts,  and  the  scop  of  the  Aqglo-Saxons,  330. 

Scallop-shell  of  Compostella,  the  badge  of  a  pilgrim,  from  the  shrine 
of  St.  James  at  Compostella  in  Spain,  267. 

Scathe,  to  harm ;  unscathed,  unharmed ;  scatheless,  119,  178. 

Scout-master,  an  officer  who  has  charge  of  scouts  and  army  messen- 
gers, 368. 

Scutcheon,  483.     (See  escutcheon.) 

Sendal,  a  tbin  silken  material,  321. 

Seneschal,  an  officer  of  the  household  who  has  charge  of  ceremonies 
and  feasts,  17,  142. 

Sewer,  a  person  charged  with  the  service  of  the  table,  a  sort  of  head 
waiter,  212,  276. 

Shackle-bolt.  In  heraldry  a  bearing  representing  a  fetlock  for  hob- 
bling a  horse,  299.  -** 

Shadrach,  Meshech,  and  Abednegd,  the  names  of  three  Hebrew  youths 
who  refused  to  defile  themselves  by  eating  the  food  provided  for 
them  at  the  court  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  169.     (Daniel  L) 

Shaveling,  a  contemptuous  name  for  a  priest,  203,  255. 

Shekel,  the  chief  silver  coin  of  the  Jews;  money  in  general,  50, 
112. 

Shot  at  rovers,  a  shot  at  a  mark  with  some  elevation,  not  point-blank, 
141.     [C,  rover.] 

Sigil,  an  occult  mark  or  sign,  as  in  magic  or  astrology,  383. 

Sihon,  king  of  the  Amorites,  a  king  with  whose  army  the  Israelites 
fought  and  whom  they  defeated,  98.     [Numbers  xxi.] 

Simarre,  a  loose  light  robe  worn  by  women,  74c 

Simnel  bread,  a  cake  made  of  fine  flour,  148Q 


528  GLOSSARY. 

Si  quis,  suadente  Diabolo,  If  any  one  led  by  the  devil,  277. 

Sirach,  daughter  of,  Sirach  was  the  reputed  author  of  the  Ecclesiasti- 

cus,  one  of  the  wisdom  books  of  the  Apocrypha,  238. 
Sirvente.     (See  Notes  for  p.  175.) 
Sith,  since,  141.     [C,  sith,  especially  the  etymology.] 
Slot,  the  track  of  a  deer,  as  followed  by  the  scent  or  mark  of  the  foot, 

370. 
Slot-hound  (Slow-hound),  a  bloodhound,  27,  291. 
Solere  chamber,  an  upper  room,  51.    [C,  sollar.'] 
Something  in  hand  the  whilst,  a  small  sum,  as  a  sort  of  earnest  of  the 

larger  reward,  110,  270. 
Sortilege,  divination,  or  decision  by  lot ;  hence  sorcery,  396. 
Soul-scat,  a  funeral  payment,  usually  to  the  priest  in  whose  church 

prayer  for  the  departed  has  been  said,  338,  461. 
Spoiling  of  the  Egyptians,  when  the  Israelites  came  out  of  Egypt  they 

carried  off  whatever  valuables  of  their  masters  they  could  lay 

hands  on,  359.     (Exodus  xii.  36.) 
Springal,  an  active  young  person,  130. 
Stag-royal,  a  stag  that  has  antlers  terminating  in  twelve  or  more 

points,  353. 
Steads,  estates,  335. 

Stock-fish,  fish  cured  by  splitting  and  drying,  435. 
Stole,  a  vestment  worn  by  certain  ecclesiastics,  449,  471. 
Stool-ball,  an  outdoor  game  generally  played  by  women  alone,  257. 
Stoup,  a  drinking  vessel,  a  flagon,  171,  260,  etc. 
Sultana,  mother,  wife,  or  daughter  of  a  sultan,  39. 
Sumpter  mule,  a  pack  or  baggage  mule,  12,  188. 
Surquedy  and  outrecuidance,  insolence  and  presumption.  —  Scott, 

271. 
Take  sanctuary,  according  to  an  old  custom  offenders  who  took  refuge 

in  certain  churches  were  safe  from  arrest,  365. 
Tale,  number,  list,  112. 
Talmud,  the  book  which  embodies  the  civil  and  canonical  law  of  the 

Jewish  people,  221. 
Targe,  target,  a  small  shield,  319,  436. 
Te  igitur,  a  Latin  service-book  upon  which  oaths  were  made ;  called 

from  the  first  two  words  of  the  first  paragraph,  481. 
Temple  church,  the  church  belonging  to  an  establishment  of  Knights 

Templars  in  London,  376. 
Termagaunt,  an  imaginary  deity,  supposed  to  have  been  worshipped 

by  the  Mohammedans,  42. 
Thane,  in  early  England  a  member  of  a  rank  above  that  of  the  ordinary 

freeman,  26,  etc. 
Theow  and  Esne,  Thrall  and  bondsman.  —  Scott,  335. 


GLOSSARY.  529 

Thor,  in  the  Scandinavian  mythology,  the  second  principal  god  ;  next 

to  Odin,  260. 
Thrall,  a  slave,  a  serf,  6. 
Thunder-dint,  a  thunder-clap,  343. 

Tippet,  a  scarf  or  short  cape,  generally  made  of  fur,  74. 
Toll-dish,  a  dish  used  for  measuring  the  toll  in  mills  (humorously  for 

the  miller's  head),  119. 
Totty,  unsteady,  tipsy,  346,  470. 
Train  (of  the  fox),  the  trail  or  scent,  233. 
Tregetour,  a  juggler,  471. 
Trencher,  a  wooden  plate  or  platter,  27. 
Tristram,  Sir,  one  of  the  knights  of  Arthur's  Round  Table,  44,  367. 

(See  Notes  for  p.  51.) 
Trivet,  a  three-footed  stool  or  stand,  167. 
Troubadour,  44,  225.     (See  Notes  for  p.  175.) 
Trowl  [troll),  to  circulate,  to  pass  around,  198. 
Truncheon,  a  short  staff,  a  club,  27,  30. 
Truss  my  points.     (See  Points.) 
Twelfth  Night,  the  eve  of  Twelfth  Day  (the  feast  of  the  Epiphany), 

January  6,  469. 
Two-handed  sword,  a  heavy  sword  to  be  wielded  with  both  hands,  14. 
Unhouseled,  not  having  received  the  sacrament,  311. 
Unshriven,  not  having  received  priestly  absolution,  311,  487. 
Ut  fratres  non  conversentur  cum  extraneis  mulieribus,  That  the 

brethren  should  not  associate  with  worldly  women,  397. 
Ut  fratres  non  participent  cum  excommunicatis,  That  the  brethren 

shall  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  excommunicated,  397. 
Ut  fugiantur  oscula,  That  they  should  avoid  kisses,  397. 
Ut  leo  semper  feriatur,  That  the  lion  may  be  always  struck  down, 

376.     (See  Notes.) 
Ut  omnium  mulierum  fugiantur  oscula,  That  all  women's  kisses  are 

to  be  avoided,  397. 
Vailing  his  bonnet,  lowering  or  removing  the  head  covering,  48. 
Vair,  a  kind  of  fur,  believed  to  have  been  that  of  the  gray  squirrel, 

375. 
Valhalla,  in  Scandinavian  mythology  the  Hall  of  the  Slain,  or  Palace 

of  the  Immortal  Dead;  the  dwelling  of  those  who  died  bravely  in 

battle;  maidens  of  Valhalla,  the  Valkyrs  or  choosers  of  the  slain, 

who  conduct  to  Valhalla  the  souls  of  the  heroes,  330. 
Venerie,  the  exercise  of  hunting,  the  sport  of  the  chase,  349. 
Venite,  exultemus  Domino,  Come,  let  us  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  395. 

(Psalm  xcv.) 
Vert  and  venison,  the  freedom  of  the  forest,  and  the  right  of  hunting 

449. 

2m 


530  GLOSSARY. 

Vespers,  a  late  religious  service,  the  next  to  the  last  for  the  day,  49, 
178,  399. 

Vigils,  a  church  service,  a  watch  kept  on  the  eve  of  a  festival,  59,  269 

Vinum  lsetificat  cor  hominis,  wine  gladdens  the  heart  of  man,  382. 

Virelai,  an  old  French  poem  of  a  peculiar  verse-form.  Scott  does  not 
try  to  imitate  it,  437.    [C,  virelay.] 

Vis  inertia,  force  of  inertia,  78. 

Waes  hael,  may  you  be  well  !  to  your  health !  172,  461. 

Warden  of  the  walk,  a  keeper  or  watchman  of  a  walk,  or  district  of 
forest  marked  out  for  hunting  purpose,  36 ;  walk,  198. 

Warder,  (1)  a  staff,  130 ;  (2)  a  gatekeeper  or  guard,  29,  30,  etc. 

Wardour  MSS.,  the  invented  authority  for  the  facts  of  "  Ivanhoe." 

War-song  of  Rollo  (Rollo,  Holf,  or  Ron) ,  a  Norwegian  hero  who  became 
the  first  Duke  of  Normandy.  The  war-cry  of  the  Normans,  Har- 
row !  {Ha  Rou)  is  said  to  be  a  calling  upon  his  name. 

Wassail  (waes  hael),  the  toast  or  health  offered  in  drinking,  39;  a 
carouse,  a  drinking-bout,  264. 

Wastel  cake,  a  cake  made  of  fine  flour,  48. 

Watch  and  ward,  a  continuous  guarding,  watch  signifying  the  night- 
guard,  and  ward  the  day -guard,  258,  462. 

Weather-gage,  the  advantage  of  the  wind,  any  advantage  of  posi- 
tion, 8. 

Wet  mass,  to  he  at  a,  to  be  drinking,  342. 

White,  hit  the,  to  hit  the  white  spot  in  the  very  centre  of  the  target,  77. 

Whittle,  a  knife,  5,  144. 

Wicket,  a  small  gate  or  doorway,  60. 

Wild-goose  chase,  a  foolish  or  idle  endeavor,  381. 

Wimple,  a  covering  laid  in  folds  over  the  head  and  the  sides  of  the 
face,  and  under  the  chin,  462.     [C] 

Windlaces,  294.     (See  arblast.) 

Witch  of  Endor,  a  female  soothsayer  consulted  by  Samuel  in  Endor, 
238.     (1  Samuel  xxviii.  7.) 

Witenagemote,  the  Anglo-Saxon  national  council  or  parliament,  275. 

Woden,  265,  461.     (See  Odin.) 

Yeoman,  (1)  a  guard,  70;  (2)  in  early  England  a  man  having  free  land 
of  a  certain  value,  71 ;  (3)  an  archer,  an  outlaw,  72,  etc. 

Zecchin,  a  gold  coin  of  Venice,  worth  about  two  and  a  quarter  dollars, 
97,  107,  etc. 


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